


Signals

by RenkonNairu



Category: DCU (Comics), DCU Animated, Earth-16, World's Finest - Fandom, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Father/Son, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Invasion, Multi, Other, Recovery, Trauma, War, combination of different show canons, mind-control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 109,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkonNairu/pseuds/RenkonNairu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 1<br/>(originally began during S1 hiatus between episodes 'Secret' and 'Misplaced')<br/>"Its the static. There's a sub-sonic frequency imbedded in the static... the other kids couldn't know, only a kryptonian would hear it. He was the mole and didn't even realize..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Static

Mount Justice

Dec. 29 - 5:45 pm

Conner blinked in confusion. It had been just a moment since he had switched on the TV and sat down to watch the static, he was sure it hadn't been longer than a second, maybe even less. But the small clock on the digital cable box now blinked at him that several hours had passed from the time he'd switched on the TV to the time he sat down. What the hell?

The clock must be wrong. That was the logical explanation. He'd ask Robin about it this weekend. He was by far more tech savvy than the kryptonian genomorph, the Boy Wonder would fix the clock for him. The matter required no deeper thought.

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 1 – 1:09 am

It happened again on New Years.

The Team had decided that they should have a party, not just to ring in the new year, but also celebrate the six months that they've been working with one another and all the near death experiences they'd survived together. Artemis, being a veteran of Gotham North, had snuck in some real alcohol for a little under-aged drinking. It had no noticeable effect on him, Conner supposed his kryptonian blood protected him from the consequences of alcohol consumption and human excesses, but everyone else had reached varying degrees of 'drunk' by the time the ball dropped. M'gann had a particularly adverse reaction to the drink and left the party early, leaving Conner with no one to kiss at midnight. After the count down he had been the only one left sober and able to carry them each to their respective rooms to sleep it off, leaving the Superboy alone to clean up after.

He switched on the TV but not the digital box and just let the static play like white noise in the background as he worked.

The next thing the kryptonian genomorph knew, he was standing in the Cave's main computer room. What the hell? How in the heck did he get in here? The last thing Conner remembered was picking up empty Smirnoff bottles and paper plates off the floor in the common room. What was he now doing in the computer room, with no idea why he'd come here in the first place or even how he'd gotten here? Maybe the alcohol had affected him; it had just been a delayed reaction. Maybe blackouts were a normal symptom of kryptonian inebriation. A shame he wasn't on speaking terms with Superman. Maybe he could ask Canary, or Red Tornado, or J'onn to ask the Man of Steel for him. He'd consider asking Batman, but that would mean fessing-up to underage drinking and would end-up ratting out everyone else too.

The clone decided that it might be best to just let it be and try not to think about it. He promised himself not to drink again and went back to the common room to finish cleaning up the aftermath left by his comrades' illicit party.

The clock read 5:15 am. He had lost four hours due to his blackout.

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 1 – 11:45 am

It was nearing noon when everyone began emerging from their rooms, staggering into the kitchen in varying degrees of stupor, demanding coffee, tabasco sauce and whatever other remedies for hangovers that they might have heard of. They all snapped and snarled at each other for a little bit, but mostly all just pulled up barstools and crowded around the island that separated the kitchen from the common area and rested their heads on the cool faux-marble surface. There was something universally soothing about resting one's head on a cool porcelain-like surface when you were drunk or hung-over, whether is was a marble countertop or a toilet bowl, it was just… nice.

After coffee was served and everyone started to perk-up, slowly recovering from the previous nights binge, Artemis began to glare disapprovingly at Conner. When the genomorph inquired as to what her problem was, the fem fatal archer snarled that his shirt was blocking her view and demanded that he take it off. The Superboy was so taken about by this had he found himself at a loss as to how to respond. Luckily for him, Artemis' mention of 'views' jogged something in Robin's alcohol addled memory.

"View!" The Boy Wonder suddenly exclaimed. His outburst caused his fellow hangoveries to wince at the sudden volume. "I forgot to reactivate the cameras last night!"

He then explained in a fractured narrative how he didn't want Batman or the other mentors learning of their little underage merrymaking last night, and so when Artemis had entered with her brown paper bags of Smirnoff and Cuervo he had cut the camera feed. But that had been over twelve hours ago by now and someone must have noticed. Batman was probably on his way over as they spoke to kill him (and maybe the rest of the Team as well).

The adrenaline from his panic-stricken realization sobered the Boy Wonder better than any coffee or hot sauce ever could and he was dashing off to the computer room to correct his mistake and hopefully placate his mentor when he arrived. There had made a startling discovery, the implications of which went far deeper and were far more freighting that the prospect of punishment for a little indulgence in adolescent stupidity.

At first the little bird thought that perhaps he had drunk just a little to much the previous night and he was still to hung-over to hack the Cave's system. Then he reminded himself that that was stupid, he could hack the Cave's system in his sleep! A little hang-over should be nothing. He went to his room to fetch the gloves from his Robin uniform and hooked up his portable wrist computer to the Cave's main terminal to run diagnostics. He then quickly discovered that the Cave's systems had been hacked! The mole, whoever he or she was, was back in action!

The Dark Knight arrived not long after that and Robin rushed to intercept his mentor and pull him into a secluded room before the others had a chance to say anything. Bruce assumed his little bird wanted to grovel for forgiveness without having to endure the embarrassment of having his comrades watch. The Batman crossed his arms over his chest and put on his best reprimanding glare, the one he saved for fellow members of the Justice League and people who talked at the movies. His glare did not change as the boy confessed to deactivating the surveillance feed and to having a party at which they (he and everyone else) had indulged in substances that were as of yet, illegal to them.

It was as much as the World's Greatest Detective had guessed. He uncrossed his arms, preparing to give his little bird a speech about responsibility and upholding the laws, even the small ones and how as fledgling members of the Justice League of America they had to hold themselves to a higher moral standard than the average citizen. That speech died on his lips, however, his expression turning from stern to shocked when Dick then reported that some time during the night or morning, the Cave's system had been hacked, that the mole was back in operation (or had never been out of operation but had just become bolder) and that they still were no closer to finding out who he or she was.

Batman called everyone to a meeting. Not in the briefing room, even if he had a mission for them they were in no condition to actually fulfill one. No, he called them all to the common room and watched with a critical eye as they all migrated from the kitchen island to the couch or chairs, all but Conner had a slight sway to their movements. Of course, the kryptonian clone wouldn't have gotten plastered. Bruce had seen Clark drink enough to know that his alien physiology was unaffected by alcohol. Damn kryptonians! Sometimes, Bruce just wanted to put his kryptonite ring on and pop one right in the Man of Steel's jaw if for no other reason than to reaffirm his confidence in his own humanity.

J'onn's niece seemed the worst affected and the Dark Knight was ever so slightly surprised that her uncle never thought to warn her that alcohol had extremely adverse effects on martian physiology. Her skin, usually a rich virescent jade had turned a sickly shade of olive and she shook slightly as Conner helped her to a seat on the couch. Poor girl, but chances were (assuming her condition wasn't an act) she wasn't the mole.

Kid Flash's accelerated metabolism seemed to have burned off anything he might have drunk the previous night and he zipped around the room, still in his pajamas, refilling everyone's coffee before finally taking a seat himself. Bruce considered the energetic redhead but then dismissed him as the mole. He and Dick had been friends for so long that the young speedster was above suspicion.

Then there was Artemis. She was snarly and irritable but otherwise seemed fine. Being a veteran of Gotham North she was probably also an accomplished delinquent and would be an experienced drinker and adept liar. Her parentage also made her a bit suspect. Both of the young archer's parents had been assassins, her mother had reformed, but her father was still in the profession. He had dismissed Roy's concerns over the girl in their last meeting but that didn't mean that he still didn't consider them from time to time. She had also been the one to bring in the alcohol in the first place, giving Robin motivation to become an unwitting accomplice.

Then there was Kaldu'ram, King Orin's protégé. The boy displayed absolute respect for not only his King, but all JLA members. He was always calm and respectful, even when taking an opposing stance in a discussion. But, as the Dark Knight was more than well aware, it was always the quiet ones you had to look out for. Could his past concerns over the mole and current insistence that it couldn't be anyone on the Team be a misdirect? Maybe. But not likely when Bruce considered he had a much better suspect.

He swung his attention back to Conner Kent, the Superboy, a clone of Superman known as Project Kr, whom had been programmed by telepathic genomorphs called G-gnomes. He'd broached the possibility before and it was one that he always seemed to return to in his own musings: Could Cadmus have left some sort of 'sleeper program' dormant in the Boy of Steel? The answer to that question was of course 'Yes'. They could have. They certainly had means and opportunity. But did they? That was the real question. Unfortunately, it was a question that couldn't be answered until said hypothetical sleeper program was activated; and so, the Dark Knight had to operate under the assumption that Conner (and everyone on the Team for that matter) was innocent until they proved themselves guilty.

Batman did not mention the hacking of the Cave's computer. Following under Kaldur's logic from the first round of mole-paranoia he did not want to alert the perpetrator prematurely. Instead he reprimanded them for their irresponsible behavior and demanded a narrative of what each of them had done that night.

M'gann had been the first to go under well before midnight and Conner had carried her to her room. He'd stayed with her for some time after that and did not return to the group until a few minuets to midnight. He had been out of sight and unaccounted for for almost forty-five minuets, but M'gann vouched for him, confirming his alibi. He was with her, making sure she was alright and getting for her anything she might need (such as a basin to puke in).

His own little bird had been the next to retire for the evening. Shortly after midnight he had announced that he was 'drunk, betches!' and that 'daddy-Bats' would kill him if he found out. So, Robin had attempted to stumble down the hall only to trip over his own feet halfway to his room. He was carried the rest of the way by Conner, all the while wailing about how he was a gymnast and that trips and stumbles were something that he just didn't do! It was a lie! It never happened! It would be their little secret. Of course, that all seemed rather silly to the Boy Wonder now that he was awake and sober and seeing himself without 'beer goggles' clouding his judgment.

After Conner returned from Robin's room he was pounced on by Artemis, the fem fatal archer proclaiming herself to also be to drunk to walk and demanding the 'smexy Superboy' carry her to her room in his 'yummy muscley arms'. Conner had groaned at that, not appreciating being treated like a pack animal or a taxi one bit. He slung the young archer over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her to her room. He unceremoniously dumped her on her bed and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

When he once again returned to the common area it was to find Kaldur passed out on the couch, drooling heavily and Wally attempting to duct tape the empty bottles together to make something he called 'Wizard Sticks'. The genomorph warned the speedster that he wouldn't succeed in making anything but broken glass that one of them would have to clean it up (three guesses who). The Kid Flash had brushed off his concerns and twirled his newly made staff just to prove his teammate wrong. The two bottles on the ends broke off and shattered on the wall and floor (respectively). A then the vexed genomorph had declared the evening be over and asked the speedster if he could walk to his room on his own or if the Superboy had to carry him. Wally assured him that he could carry himself to his room and left Conner to see Kaldur safely to bed.

Conner then explained how he had spent the entire rest of the night-morning cleaning up after his deposed comrades. He described in boring detail how he'd swept up Wally's broken glass, gathered the remaining undamaged bottles and thrown them in the recycle bin, mopped-up any spills, thrown away their paper plates and plastic cups, flipped over the couch cushion Kaldur had drooled on, etc. He did not, however, mention his four-hour blackout. He assumed it was a symptom of kryptonian inebriation but he wanted to be sure before bringing it to the attention of the ever-so-paranoid Dark Knight.

After the interview was concluded and Batman had delivered a speech on higher moral standards and adhering to the law, the Team was dismissed and everyone returned to whatever it was they had been doing prior to the Dark Knight's arrival while the Dynamic Duo slunk away to the computer room to dust for prints and look for any other clues that might give away the identity of the mole within the YJ Team.

Conner helped M'gann back to her room and held her hair back as she puked in the toilet of her suit's adjoining bathroom. When he later returned to his own room for a change of clothes and a light nap, the genomorph found a jump-drive that he did not recognize in his pants pocket. He stared at it curiously for a moment or two wondering how it could have gotten there. It wasn't like the standard run of the mill jump-drive that you could put on a keychain and only carried one or two gigs, no. This was a large piece of technology that was almost as big as the palm of his hand with a swivel USB plug and it looked like it would hold upwards to two terabits.

Not a normal jump-drive at all. He wondered where he'd gotten it. Weird.

…

Undisclosed Location

Jan. 6 – 7:45 pm

The next time Conner recovered from an odd blackout, he found himself standing in the middle of know where far from Mount Justice. For all he could tell, it was a wide-open and completely empty field. He stood in the lightly falling snow, staring around him in utter confusion. The last think he remembered, he had arrived home from school, pulled off his boots, turned on the TV, and sat down to watch the static like he always did. Next thing he knows, his standing in the middle of nowhere, still in his socks, with no memory of how he got there or any idea as to why he would come here in the first place.

Now Conner was worried. It had been a week since New Years, whatever alcohol he'd drunk that night must be out of his system by now. He couldn't brush this off as a symptom of kryptonian inebriation. This was something else. He suddenly remembered another time he'd had a blackout and lost a few hours of his memory, it had been just before the new year but he'd come-to on the couch safe in front of the TV in the common room so he hadn't thought much of it then. But now he was thinking about it and thinking seriously. Once was an isolated incident, no need to blow it out of proportion, twice was a coincidence, don't read more into it than there was, but three times… three times was a pattern. Three times meant something, he just didn't know what. Neither did he know what would happen if it occurred a fourth time…

The sun had already set, so there was chance of getting any sort of directional heading from that. The Boy of Steel leapt up into the air, climbing just above the clouds dusting the landscape with snow and studied the stars for the few moments they were visible to him before he began to plummet earthward once more and they were once again obscured by their snowy veil. He guessed his current position and chose a direction based on that. With great leaping strides, the genomorph made his way back to Mount Justice, leaving a path of craters behind him.

M'gann was in the kitchen when he arrived back at the Cave. She looked up at him from an attempt at what looked like stir-fry, her eyes full of displeasure. "You sure left in a hurry."

"You saw me leave?" He asked, hopeful that she might be able to shed some light on his missing four hours.

"Hello, Conner!" She said much in the same way she said her trademark 'Hello, M'gann'. "Who do you think was the person asking you were you were going? You were in such a hurry you didn't even bother to put your shoes back on! And when you ignored me vocally I tried talking to you telepathically and all you gave me was static! I didn't know you knew mental shielding."

Neither did he.

"Did I do anything else?" He asked.

"No. You just left." She turned her attention back to her cooking to give the fry a little stir, then back up at him. "Anyway, you're all wet now. Go change before dinner."

He did as he was told. Retreating into his room and shucking off his snow dampened cargo-pants and t-shirt and donning a pair of PJ pants and a different red and black S-shield shirt in their stead. It was as he was double checking his pockets before he threw his pants in the laundry hamper that he noticed that the jump-drive was somehow, suddenly and inexplicably gone.

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 7 – 10:30 am

"Thanks for agreeing to speak with me, Canary."

They sat in twin green armchairs in the lounge, the same two chairs they had sat in during their therapy sessions shortly after the botched training simulation back in October. He had confessed one of his darkest secrets to her then and she had comforted and supported him, helping him to cope with the guilt taking pleasure from the invasion of Earth. Now he was going to confide another secret to her, and he hoped she would give him the same comfort she did before, not for guilt, but for fear.

"Of course, Conner, I'm always here for you." Her expression remained sober –serious, but her eyes glowed with compassion and empathy.

He offered her a flimsy smile, unsure of how to begin. Canary waited patiently for him as several moments ticked by. She would not rush him, she would wait until he was ready to talk, it was one of the things that endeared her to him, made him trust her. Well, he trusted her, he might as well dive right in.

"Lately…" He began softly. "Lately I've been having lapses in memory. There are blocks of time where I can't remember anything I've done or where I've been. Yesterday, I woke up and I was standing in the middle of nowhere and I had no idea what I was doing there or how I'd gotten there. But yesterday wasn't the first time. It happened on New Years too, I thought it might have been the alcohol so I didn't think much of it. But even before that it happened, I just thought the clock was broken." He paused, looked up at her, looked away, studied his hands. "Ever since the guys pulled me out of Cadmus I've known I'm flawed. There are things that I just can't do that I should be able to do, but… but now I'm wondering if I'm not… deteriorating as well." He looked up at her and confessed, "Canary, I'm scared."

…

Watchtower

Jan. 7 – (irrelevant)

"…and when I asked him what he was doing before these memory lapses occur he just says 'relaxing', which doesn't really give us much to go in." Black Canary had promised everyone on the Team that the things they shared with her never left the room. But there was one caveat that she had not stipulate to them and that was that doctor-patient confidentiality did not apply in the case that the information shared could harm either the patient himself or herself or someone else. In light of Batman's alluding to the return of the mole and Conner's mention of one of his blackouts occurring on New Years, she felt it necessary to bring to the Dark Knight's attention.

"Thank you, Dinah." He said gruffly. "I'll look into the matter."

…

Batcave, Gotham City

Jan. 8 – 6:24 am

Bruce had spent the past week sifting through file access logs trying to figure out what specific information the mole had been after when they hacked into the Cave's computer system. As far as he could tell, they hadn't done any damage and so their objective must not have been sabotage but rather espionage. He had, thus far, been unsuccessful in his search, a fact the Dark Knight found maddeningly frustrating considering he'd been at it for a week already. Whoever had hacked the system (or whoever had instructed the mole on how to hack the system) was a master.

But the new information about Superboy that Dinah had brought him gave the Dark Knight another (hopefully easier) project with which to distract himself. Her account of Conner's blackouts and memory lapses gave all the confirmation the World's Greatest Detective needed to convince himself that the genomorph was the mole, now he just needed to sift through the footage from the security feed that they did have to get the physical evidence to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt. If he couldn't learn what information had been leaked, he could at least plug the leak so nothing else slipped through.

Dinah had learned the dates of Conner's blackouts and she had passed that information onto the Dark Knight, he now pulled up the surveillance feeds for those days and began long boring task of surveying the footage for any sign of suspicious behavior in the clone.

Watching the recorded feed on fast-forward, Bruce was on his third cup of coffee when he saw the first sign of suspicious behavior from the genomorph. After Superboy and Miss Martian had returned from school, had a snack and finished their homework, the girl took the clone's pet Wolf out for a walk leaving the genomorph alone. Bruce watched as Conner turned on the TV and left the static playing as he'd been told he often did, but he didn't sit down to stare blankly at the screen. Instead he walked right out of the room, through the hangar and off the base where the cameras couldn't watch him. He did not return until three hours had passed, sitting down in front of the TV as if nothing were amiss.

Bruce replayed the segment several times to make sure he caught everything there was so see, then he turned on the sound and repeated the segment several more times. There were no discernable visual cues to trigger the genomorph's programming that the Dark Knight could see, neither were there any sounds that he could hear that seemed out of place. But that didn't mean they weren't there. The kid was a clone of Superman and he had already shown time and again that he had inherited Clark's superior hearing and possessed at least one of his alternate vision powers. Just because Bruce couldn't perceive a trigger didn't mean it wasn't there.

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 9 – 9:45 am

"I can't believe you roped me into coming down here just to fix a TV." Clark crossed his arm over his chest in annoyance. He stood in the Cave's common area watching the Batman lean behind the large flat-screen TV to examine the cables and wires there. "I don't know how I let you talk me into these things."

"Oh, stop your grumbling. This is nothing like that cruise in Bermuda." The Dark Knight growled from behind the TV. "I asked you here when the kids are off at school so that you don't have to worry about me 'accidentally' throwing you and your neglected son together."

Clark opened his mouth to protest.

"And don't you dare say you're not his father." Bruce added before the Man of Steel had the chance to form even one syllable. "I'm in no mood to deal with your little denial train today. …See anything now?"

Clark shifted his attention back to the TV. "No, just static."

Bruce sighed. "Alright, that's it for the visual fiddling. Now for audio."

"I don't see what you're expecting to find." The Man of Steel continued, playing the uncharacteristic role of a pessimist. "Its more than likely we'll only find the boy's trigger when they actually transmit a signal. If they –whoever 'they' are- were using something that was a constant then he'd always be in the mindset of a spy and would be having these blackouts and memory lapses he's claiming to have. If you really wanna find whatever it is that's activating his programming you'll have to stake out the place until it happens again."

Bruce withdrew himself from behind the TV and blinked at his alien comrade. Then he grinned.

"W-what?" Clark did not like that look.

"Thank you for volunteering."

"You can't be serious!" The Man of Steel protested, realizing all to late what he had stepped into. "I can't! I have commitments. I have a job. I have responsibilities."

"You can see and hear things that no one else but yourself and Superboy can."

Clark knew this was an argument he couldn't win. No one ever won arguments with the Dark Knight. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try and weasel his way out of it. But ultimately, no matter how eloquently he made his case or how passionately he defended his stance, he lost. Bruce won him over, Batman always wins.

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 11 – 6:00

"…and so Superman volunteered to be your den-mother for the next few days." Batman finished explaining to the skeptical looking bunch of teenagers and Clark had to wonder what Artemis and Kid Flash were doing here on a school night. His clone and J'onn's niece lived here and while Kadur did have a home in Posidonis the Cave was his home on dry land, Dick was obviously here because Bruce was here, no surprise there. But what were Berry's nephew and Ollie's new protégé doing here? Did they come over every evening after school? Would he have to deal with a full house of teenagers from now until he found the clone's mysterious 'trigger' that Bruce was convinced only he could find.

Clark watched as their eyes flicked to the genomorph, looking to him to take cues from on how to approach the Superman. Had the clone already sewn distrust of him among their young and inexperienced ranks?

Bruce turned to leave.

"Batman, a word?" Clark stopped him.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the clone begin to exit the hangar first, he was then quickly followed by Kid Flash, Miss Martian and Artemis. Dick hung back.

"You own me big-time for this, Bruce." The Man of Steel hissed through clenched teeth in a voice just barely audible to human hearing.

"Really?" The Dark Knight blinked in mock innocents. "After all the crap we've done together and all the bullshit I've asked you to go through in the past, baby-sitting a half-dozen children is the thing you're demanding I repay you for?"

That gave Clark pause. When he said it like that…

"His name's 'Conner', by the way." Bruce patted him on the shoulder and left.

"Wait, who's name is 'Conner'? Bats? Bats!"

Behind him Clark caught the distinct sound of Dick's whimsical yet eerie laughter disappearing into the corridor that lead to the Cave's common area. So, Bruce had left his little bird to spy for him, huh. Well, that was just fine. Damn Bats and his damn over-controlling, micro-managing, doctoral tyranny!

With a heavy sigh, the Man of Steel followed the Boy Wonder and rejoined the group. "So, what do your other 'den-mothers' usually do?"

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 13 – 3:45 pm

Clark learned that all the mentors that had acted as 'den mothers' for the Team each did their own things. Captain Marvel liked to watch after-school cartoons with them (not surprising, Zatara read and practiced his magic (stage magic, slight of hand, no real magic), Canary (when she wasn't putting them threw drills) slunk off into a corner with the other girls to discuss 'girly things' that the boys were ignorant of and expressed a preference to stay that way, and Red Tornado gave the kids their space, mostly keeping to himself and only coming when he was called. Clark was more than ready to adopt the android's game of 'least in sight' when Dick asked him if he could teach M'gann how to country-fry a steak.

The Boy Scout had glared murderously at the little bird and was about to refuse when Kid Flash suddenly appeared at his side, looked up at him hopefully. "Did someone say 'steak'?"

"Wow, you know how to cook?" The martian girl's attention was also suddenly fixed on him and she gazed pleadingly. In less time than it took to say 'Great Guns!', Robin had made him the center of attention thereby making it impossible for the Man of Steel to slip away unnoticed. Damn kid was subtle. Bruce had trained him well. Damn bat!

"Of course he can." His clone's low growling voice cut through the air. "…he's Superman."

The boy stood from where he'd been sitting on the couch and turned off the TV static before exiting the room.

That had been three days ago and the genomorph had continued to avoid the Man of Steel like a leaper. Or, more accurately, had tried with marked success to avoid making any sort of actual contact with the Man of Steel. Clark still caught the boy watching him from around corners or behind doors, he would hear the boy's foot falls following him in the halls but when he would turn around to confront him all he's find was a retreating back with a defeated looking slump to his shoulders. Clark had to admit that the clone's behavior was strange but it didn't exactly scream 'enemy spy', it seemed more like 'timid fanboy reluctant to approach his idol' to the Daily Planet reporter.

This interpretation was supported by a conversation he'd overheard between the genomorph and the martian girl where she tried to encourage the boy to speak to him only to have Superboy mutter excuse after excuse as to why it was a stupid idea. The boy was a little lost, but not a traitor. Bruce was just being paranoied.

Or was it paranoia? Bruce had been trying to get him, Clark, to take responsibility for the boy since his first appearance in July. Was this whole mole-scare just some elaborate plot to force him and the boy to get to know each other? Such a scheme was neither below the Caped Crusader, nor was beyond his means or inclinations. With sudden stark clarity Clark saw the flimsy excuse the manipulative little rich-boy had used to get him to agree to this. Looking for some sort of subliminal trigger that only he could see or hear, ha! Now that he thought about it, it sounded so stupid! Like something out of the Silver Age of DC Comics, not a method any real villain in this day and age would use. The next time he saw him, the Man of Steel was going to give the Dark Knight a piece of his mind!

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 14 – 12:00 pm

It was as he was supervising M'gann cooking lunch that he heard it, that strange sound like a dissonant cord.

He looked up, scanning the room for the source of the sound. Conner had been sitting in front of the TV watching the static for some time, but now he stood and moved as if to leave.

"Where're you going, kiddo?" Superman asked.

The boy did not reply, just walked past the island that separated the kitchen from the common area on his way to the hangar. He didn't look like he was being controlled or was in a trance. His face was not blank or expressionless; on the contrary, he looked quite determined. Like he had some great mission to fulfill and only he could do it.

"He's done this before." M'gann said, sounding worried. She turned the stove off and stepped out of the small kitchen. "Conner…?"

Before she could reach her errant boyfriend, Clark had zipped to the common area and switched off the TV. The sound stopped, the dissonant cord vanishing with its source and the boy blinked, looked confused, snarled wordlessly and stormed to his own room.

Okay, so maybe this hadn't been a ruse by Bruce after all. Maybe there was somebody or something out there controlling the clone and using him to spy on the Young Justice team and by extension possibly the rest of the JLA. Clark switched on his comm and called the Batman.

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 14 – 12:36 pm

"Its the static." Clark said, only confirming what Bruce had already assumed. "There's a sub-sonic frequency imbedded in the static, but its not there all the time. Its like whoever's controlling him turns it on and off. Kinda… kinda like a dog-whistle, they call him when they want him and the rest of the time he's perfectly normal. The other kids couldn't know, only a kryptonian would hear it. He was the mole and didn't even realize..."

The Dark Knight nodded. All this he had already guessed, but he had still needed a confirmation. Clark's super-human hearing had given him that, next was to work-up a strategy to stop or at the very least impede their control (whoever 'they' were). "So, as a kryptonian and my 'expert consultant' in this matter, what do you suggest we do?"

"My opinion?" Clark crossed his arms over his chest. "Chuck the TV out a window and don't bother to get a new one. Ma always did call the thing an 'idiot box'."

Bruce waited to see if this was the Boy Scout's idea of a joke. When he decided that the man was serious he said, "You don't spend much time around kids, do you?"


	2. Watchtower

Mount Justice

Jan. 15 – 10:30 am

A robinrang sailed through the air and lodged itself squarely in the center of the TV screen. The machine died with a shattering sizzle and fizz of electricity and the scent of ozone filled the common area.

Conner traced the projectile's vector back to a very sheepish looking Boy Wonder.

"Oops." He shrugged by way of an explanation. "It slipped."

…

Batcave

Jan. 15 – 10:45 am

"You do realize, of course, that just getting rid of the TV is only a temporary fix, right?" Bruce did not turn to face his guest as he spoke; his full attention was focused back on trying to learn what information had been accessed during the computer hack. Still, that did not stop the World's Greatest Detective from lording the fact that he was smarter than his companion, kryptonian intellect be damned! "Whoever's controlling him knows where he is and if they're determined enough will find another way to get to him."

Clark pause in his back and forth pacing behind the Dark Knight's chair. "What kind of 'permanent' solution would you suggest?"

It took Bruce a couple minuets before answering as he was working on a particularly difficult set of codes. Damn, Dick made all this look so easy. Kids these days! "I'm considering several options."

"He should be removed from the Cave." Clark suggested. "Leaving him there where you claim the enemy knows where he is and how to get to him would only be putting the other kids in danger."

Bruce's keys stilled at the console. He turned his chair around slowly to stare at the Man of Steel. "Clark, that is a fantastic idea! And I know exactly where he could stay!"

Superman nodded and the World's Greatest Detective could not believe it. Perhaps his four-day stay at the Cave with the boy had been the kick in the head Clark needed to get it through his thick kryptonian skull that the boy belonged with him.

"We'll be able to monitor him much more carefully on Watchtower, we wouldn't give him clearance to use the teleporters or use a javelin so we wouldn't have to worry about him sneaking off, even if we did louse track of him we'd at least still know that he was on the station. And, J'onn could examine and monitor the boy's mind to try and figure out how to prevent this from happening in the future."

Damn it! Of course it was to good to be true, Clark wouldn't offer to take the boy. In fact, Bruce was pretty sure the idea didn't even enter the man's mind. Damn hard-headed kryptonian. Still… he did make some valid points…

"I'll consider it." And he would. "In the mean time, you're project is to see if you can track down the source of that tone you heard."

"The dissonant cord." Clark crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not sure if I can."

"Look, Clark, I don't expect you to be as effective as I am, but all sounds have a source. All you have to do is figure out what made the sound, then based on how common the source is start isolating possible places where it could have been either recorded or transmitted or both. Most synthetic sounds have a unique-"

"I don't think that's gonna work in this case, Bruce. The cord… it's not a sound I've heard on Earth ever."

For a second time the Batman turn his chair around to face the Superman. "Excuse me?" He said. "Are you telling me that aliens are controlling Superboy? Thereby implying that aliens funded the Cadmus project?"

"Look, you don't have to sum it up for me. I know how stupid it sounds." Clark resumed his pacing. "But I'm telling you, Bruce, that cord doesn't exist on Earth."

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 18 – 6:45 am

Conner was intercepted by Black Canary in the hangar just as he was leaving for school. He cut his bike's engine, lowered the kickstand and climbed off, nodding to M'gann to go on ahead without him.

"Yeah, Canary?"

"Conner," she began slowly, her eyes sympathetic, almost pitying if the genomorph didn't know any better. "About those blackouts you told me about…"

"Yeah?" Now he was worried. What if that was pity in her eyes. What did that mean for him? Was he really deteriorating like he feared? Had she detained him to break the news personally without M'gann or anyone else present? How much longer did he have to live, anyway?

"Would you mind if I asked J'onn to scan you mind?" She asked. "I'm sorry, I know how much you hate telepathy…"

Actually, he wasn't so adverse to it anymore.

"… but you can stay up on the Watchtower and you won't have to worry about school. That would make up for it, right?"

Wait, he was being invited to go to the Watchtower? The Justice League's not-so-secret base in space? And Batman was okay with this? Whatever it was that was wrong with him must be pretty bad…

…

Watchtower

Jan. 18 – (irrelevant)

Conner stepped off the transporter pad in the center of the Watchtower's main command bridge and then froze in awe. He stood in a wide chamber with floor to ceiling windows offering a three hundred and sixty degree view of the finite space around the station. Earth hung suspended in the void before him, a beautiful glittering orb of blue and white marble, behind him was the inky blackness of infinity and for the first time in his short life the genomorph realized just how small he really was.

"I'm whelmed." He whispered, using a term coined by Robin to best describe his feelings.

Beside him, Canary rested a comforting and supported hand on his shoulder. He had asked her to accompany him on his first arrival on the Watchtower because, of all the mentors, she was the one he felt most comfortable with. She was patient and understanding, gentle and sympathetic and yet still strong-willed and firm. The genomorph felt secure around her in a way that the other members of the JLA had yet to make him feel –not even Superman, his genetic parent.

"You'll get used to it." She assured him. "C'mon, I'll show you to your quarters and help you get settled."

The room she lead him to was by no means very big, of course, on a space station space was precious. It sported a window that was by no means as grand as those on the main bridge, but it was wide enough to offer a view or Earth and stars (depending on what point of the station's rotation it was), there was a narrow bed already made with boring looking standard issue gray and blue sheets, a bedside table and a desk, all of it bolted to the floor. Of course, if the artificial gravity ever kicked off it wouldn't help matters to have giant pieces of furniture floating around. But the oddest feature of the room was not the bolted down furniture, or the wide window, no, what made Conner raise his eyebrows in curious confusion was the light fixture.

"Why's the light red?" He asked. All the other lights on the Watchtower looked to be LED or florescent.

Canary heaved an exasperated sigh. "Because Batman's a paranoid little… word I can't say in front of you."

…

Watchtower

Jan. 19 – (irrelevant)

"How are you adjusting to the Watchtower?" J'onn asked as he placed the tips of his fingers to the boy's forehead.

"Well enough, I guess." Conner shrugged. He sat on the edge of the narrow bed in his quarters, the red light turning the martian's usually vibrant green skin a ruddy shade of brown. Batman stood behind his comrade, his back to the door, arms crossed over his chest, silent but watching. Conner wished Canary had stayed. "I slept almost eight hours yesterday. I've never slept that much since I left Cadmus. Is my… do you think my deterioration is accelerating?"

"'Deterioration'?" The martian blinked at him then looked back the Dark Knight for an explanation.

"You're going to be just fine, Conner." The Caped Crusader assured him. "J'onn, please continue."

The Manhunter nodded and the Superboy let out a sigh, forcing himself to relax. M'gann read his mind all the time, they communicated telepathically on a daily basis, not just for missions anymore but mundane everyday stuff too and sweet nothings, he liked their sweet nothings. Her uncle was just going to delve a little deeper than he was used to her going. It was for his own good. J'onn wouldn't abuse his ability as Cadmus had.

The Martian Manhunter slipped into Conner's mind uncommonly easily. At first he assumed the boy had opened his inner barriers for him but after a careful examination of the boy's Outer Web, the 'surface' of the mind where passing thoughts occurred and recent thoughts lingered, he found that Conner had no mental barrier to start with. There was nothing to protect his Outer Web from being penetrated. That was odd, almost all sentient beings had at least some form of psychic protection, regardless of whether or not they came from a race with psychic abilities (or at the very least psychic potential), if you were self-aware then you had some form of mental shielding, that was that. And yet, the Superboy had none…

Trying his best to respect the boy's privacy and not pry into the thoughts on his Outer Web to much, J'onn delved deeper. There was no mental barrier separating his outer Web from his Inner one either. That was even more disconcerting. He skirted the edges of Conner's Inner Web, flowing his own mind over thin threads of psyche that connected the Inner and Outer Webs. Nothing. There was no psychic landmark telling him 'you're to deep, GTFO'. The two webs were clearly defined and separate from one another, but there was no barrier dividing them, nothing to protect the Inner Web from a psychic intruder. This had been as far as the martian had planned to go in this first session, he didn't want to push the boy, but both his curiosity and his concern had been piqued by this oddity and he found himself slinking across the boy's Inner Web to the core of his being, a part of the Self his people called… well, the name translated to the 'Chalice'.

The Chalice was the center of the Self, it was the receptacle that held the parts of a person that made them who they were. Thoughts came and went, perceptions shifted and changed, but the Chalice was ever constant, the Chalice was what was left of a person when all the superfluous window-dressings were torn away and their soul was laid bare. It was the most private and most sacred part of a person's mind. On Mars only close intimates ever delved as deep as the Chalice, mothers to their children, close siblings and life-mates, those were usually the only ones that delved into the Chalice, not acquaintances that just happened to be uncles of romantic interests.

J'onn felt slightly ashamed as he crept to the edge of the Inner Web and peered down into Conner's Chalice, like a peeping-tom sneaking into the women's locker room. But the boy's mind thus far was so strange, so open and unprotected that he had to see in what state the Chalice was.

Again, he encountered no resistance between the Inner Web and the Chalice, just as there had been none between the Outer Web and the Inner one, just as there had been no resistance when he first entered Conner's mind. The boy's mind was an open book, quite literally open to anyone with the means to enter it. J'onn was rather amazed that M'gann had not noticed it. She was intimate with the boy, was she not?

The Chalice was undamaged, and that was a relief to the maritan. A damaged Chalice usually gave way to mental instability. Thankfully, the boy was fine in that regard. But there was another… something there. Not exactly another presence, not a second mind, no. To J'onn's inner eye it appeared like a black slithering claw wrapped around the boy's inner Self. It did not emanate from within the Chalice, that was a relief. This other thing, whatever it was, was not part of the boy, it was not a part of who he was. But it had managed to slither its way past his Inner and Outer Webs and coil itself around his center. That was worrisome enough. Tentatively, J'onn reached out one thin probing tendril of his own mind to the thing and he recoiled at the feel of it.

It was not malicious in intent, nor was it cruel, conniving or any other version of malevolent. In fact it wasn't much of anything, there was no intent to it. It was just there –waiting. A black aether wrapped around the boy's core. Disturbed but unsure of what to do, the martian withdrew himself from Conner's mind.

He straitened, lowered his hand from the boy's forehead and cleared his throat awkwardly.

The boy looked up at him expectantly.

"You're going to be just fine, Conner." He repeated Batman's statement from earlier. Then turning from the Boy of Steel to the Dark Knight, "A word, if I may."

The two slipped out of the room and traveled down the corridor until Bruce was secure in the belief that the boy wouldn't be able to hear them, red-sun lamp be damned.

"The boy's mind is unprotected." He began when the Batman nodded for him to speak. J'onn launched into an explanation of the absence of any of the natural defenses a person's mind usually has. He explained how easy it was for him to sail from Conner's Outer Web, through his Inner one and all the way to his Chalice. But when he got to the other presence he found there, the martian found that he didn't quite have the right words to explain it to one whom was not also a telepath. It wasn't exactly another presence per say… it was more like… "It was almost like a receiver of sorts." He tried using the best comparison he could find that fit. "A psychic receiver wrapped around Conner's inner Self."

…

Batcave

Jan. 23 – 11:45 am

Clark stretched as he commented, "Ya know? I think I've spent more time over here this month than at my own home."

"Which one?" The Dark Knight only rolled his eyes. When a person divided up their free time between three residences, all of them spread through out the continent, he kinda lost the right to complain about not spending enough time at them. Bruce was sure the robots he had at the Fortress would maintain it for him until Judgment Day (and possibly beyond), the Kent Farm in Kansas was more his parent's home that his and they had since become used to long absences from him. The only home of his that might suffer from a prolonged absence was his apartment in Metropolis and that only because it wouldn't be his home if he failed to keep up with the rent. Of course, Clark knew all this. He was just being difficult. "I asked you here to listen to this."

Bruce pulled up a file on his computer and a sub-sonic signal that he couldn't hear began to play.

Clark's crystal blue eyes widened in surprise. "The dissonant cord!"

He leaned over the Dark Knight's chair, listening intently. It was a very unpleasant sound, somewhere between a poorly tuned violin attempting to place an open A string against an open E string, or nails on a chalk board. Or perhaps it was the sub-sonic version of both. As Clark listened, though, the sound changed, tuning itself a step down and launching into a… a melody!

Yes, there was a clear pattern to the sound. A, E, A, E, A, E, E, B, C, G, A, E, A, E… Clark tapped his fingers on the plastic covered back of Batman's swivel chair trying to follow the pattern. It was an unpleasant tune that not even the most eclectic of listeners would appreciate, with fluctuating tempos and no harmony to speak of. The whole thing radiated dissonance, not just between the notes themselves, but the rest of the world around him. The notes did not belong; the melody did not fit, it wasn't pat of the Earth's natural rhythm, nor was it compatible with her. It was apart, other, alien; but not in a friendly 'last survivor of a doomed world turned great hero' sort of way, no. To Clark's sensitive ears the melody instead radiated a malevolent intent, 'I am lord, I am master, kneel at my feet or be crushed under my boot'.

Bruce switched it off.

"Where'd you find that?" Asked the Superman.

"This signal's been cropping up everywhere since we moved Conner to the Watchtower." Bruce explained. "Not just in TV static anymore, but imbedded in commercials, radio waves, phone static, even internet pop-ups had it. Someone is going through a great deal of effort to get in touch with your boy."

"He's not my-"

"But when I try to trace the signal to a source…" The Dark Knight continued, not bothering to give the Man of Steel the chance to indulge in a protest. "…I come up with this."

He pulled up his tracking software's history and showed Clark that the signal exhibited points of origin all over the globe, but none anywhere near where the old Cadmus labs used to be. Whoever was attempting to control Superboy was either hopping around the globe as he or she sent out their little 'dog-whistle' or else they had found a way to scramble even the World's Greatest Detective's tracking software. Superman didn't much like either possibility. Globe-hopping villains implied a level of funding and resources to rival the League's (either that or superpower, possibly both) and, though Clark would never admit it to his face, he had an almost religious belief that nothing could outsmart the World's Greatest Detective ("religious" here means "a belief without proof").

"Do you want me to check any of these out after I'm through with Watch duty?" Asked the Man of Steel. His turn for Watchtower duty had come up on the roster and he was do up at the station within another few hours.

"Don't bother." Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. "Even if there was anything to find –and I don't think there would be- the trail would be to cold by the time you get back planet side. I'm just glad we've got Conner isolated from their influence."

"Speaking of Superboy," Clark looked up. "What kind of security measures have you put in place to keep him under control?"

"You mean besides removing from the sources of the problem? He's confined to quarters and kept under a red-sun lamp to nullify his powers, the room's also been shielded to keep our own sun's radiation out. Oh! And he's across the hall from someone who I think can take him."

Clark flashed a lopsided grin. "I am so glad you're on our side. Who's staying across the hall from him, by the way?"

"Oh… you'll see."

…

Watchtower

Jan. 23 – (irrelevant)

Five days Conner had been on the Watchtower. He knew because he'd watched the sun pass through his window's view five times since arriving on the station. Its yellow glow didn't seem quite as vibrant or as bright though the window of his suit as it had through the massive cathedral-like walls of the main bridge. He supposed it could just as easily be the red tinge of his room's light fixture marring Sol's otherwise sonorous light. Or it could be that his window was somehow different from those he'd seen on the bridge. Maybe the windows in all the barracks were like this, he just didn't know. There were a lot of things he didn't really know about the Watchtower base, mainly because he wasn't allowed to leave his quarters.

He'd watched the sun pass five times, so he'd been here five days and in those five days the only time he'd seen the outside of his room was when he'd first arrived. His meals were brought to him, so he did not have to venture out to the mess hall, his suit had its own adjoining bathroom that was all his, J'onn came to him for their psychic probing sessions… it seemed the League had made sure that he had no reason to leave his quarters while he was in residence on the station. Conner was starting to feel rather much like a prisoner and he had to wonder, 'Why?'

…

Watchtower

Jan. 23 – (irrelevant)

Clark finished unpacking his travel bag in his stateroom on Watchtower. He usually viewed Watch duty as an annoying chore, one of the less desirable requirements of JLA membership, but this time Clark was actually rather glad to be over two-hundred thousand miles from the Earth's surface, if for no other reason than to get away from Bruce for a bit. He liked the Dark Knight well enough and had gone so far as to call the man his 'best friend' in the past, but that didn't mean that the man never got on his nerves.

It wasn't his insufferable cynicism that bothered the Man of Steel; Lois was just as cynical if not more so. Neither was it his obnoxious habit of always being right. All. The. Freaking. Time. No, Clark had gotten used to that. What had begun to grate on the American Alien's nerves, making him glad for the chance to get away from Bruce for a while was how he had managed to suck Clark into this investigation of his clone. Bruce had this idea in his head that just because the genomorph was copied from his genes that he was automatically Superman's responsibility and that it was now also Clark's job to not only figure out who was controlling the boy but also stop them.

He wouldn't have been so bothered by it had the Dark Knight made the investigation a League project, if everyone had to pull together, Clark would have had no problem doing his fair share. But Bruce had kept the League mostly insulated from the issue. Everyone was aware of the boy that was currently staying on the station and the possible danger he presented. But aside from that, Superboy was solely a World's Finest priority, which meant it was a Batman-Superman priority. But Bruce was making it seem like the clone was solely his priority. Calling the genomorph 'his son', 'his boy', etc.

It was nice to put a little distance between himself and the Batman for a couple of days.

His things put away, the Man of Steel exited his suit heading for the main bridge and nearly bumped into Zatara carrying a tray of food while exiting his room.

"Oh! Excuse me, Superman, I was just taking Conner a bit of lunch."

"Conner?"

"Mm." The magician nodded. He shifted the tray in his arms to punch a keycode into the door lock to the room across from Superman's own and the door slid aside to reveal a room lit by a red tinged lamp. From around the sorcerer he saw the clone stand from where he'd been reading on the narrow bed. He stood to greet Zatara and take the tray from him, but froze the moment he saw Superman.

Zatara looked from one to the other, shifted awkwardly, cleared his through and then excused himself. "I'll just let you two, uh… excuse me."

He left.

The boy stared at him from his doorway, holding his lunch tray forgotten in his hands. His eyes were fixed on the Man of Steel, his genetic-parent, his mouth twitched as if he wanted to speak, but no words passed his lips. He just stood there silently. Those few days Superman had spent as their 'den mother' he had wanted to speak to the man so much, but had no idea how to approach him. Whenever he had tried to speak to Superman in the past he only ever brushed him off, finding any excuse to get away. So, as much as Conner had wanted to speak to his genetic-parent he had not, opting instead to give the man his space since he obviously felt uncomfortable around him. He hadn't thought about running into him on Watchtower.

Clark stayed in his own doorway, not daring to pass within range of the red-sun lamp Bruce had rigged up in the genomorph's room. He should have known that the goddamn Batman would have pulled something like this. Across the hall from someone who can take him indeed!

"S-Superman, I…" The clone ventured meekly –hesitantly.

"I have to make a call." He turned from the boy and disappeared back into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

…

Batcave

Jan. 23 – 9:30 pm

Bruce was just finishing his pre-patrol coffee when his JLA comm. buzzed. He set the empty mug down and answered. "This is Batman. Go ahead.

"You're an ass!" Clark's voice snarled over the channel and then hung up.

…

Watchtower

Jan. 24 – (irrelevant)

Conner lay on his narrow bed in his cramped suit in the Watchtower. He shouldn't have tried to say anything. Superman didn't like him, didn't want to listen to him, didn't want to even see him. The moment Conner had opened his mouth his genetic-parent had retreated back into his own suit citing yet another flimsy excuse for why he did not have time for the boy. He should have just stuck with the strategy he'd employed during those few days the Man of Steel had been the Team's 'den mother': He should have just left him the heck alone!

With a heavy sigh, Conner lifted himself up into a sitting position to poke at the food he'd set on his bedside table. He suddenly found that he didn't have much of an appetite. He nibbled at the meat a bit and swallowed a few of the vegetables, but otherwise left the tray untouched. He laid back down on his bed to brood.

He hadn't had any blackouts or memory lapses since coming to stay on the Watchtower, which was a relief. But he had been sleeping allot more, before the kryptonian genomorph barely logged four hours a night, here he was getting eight to nine hours every twenty-four hour cycle. But it wasn't just his sleeping patterns that were suddenly off, Conner found that his hearing wasn't as good as he was used to either. Before he could hear conversations not just through closed doors, but through closed doors and all the way down corridors as well. Heck! He used to hear people's heartbeats if he focused. Now he only seemed to be able to hear the sounds he made within his own room and sometimes a little bit from immediately outside it. He didn't feel as strong as he used to either, not that Conner had any way of accurately testing that in his tiny room.

The Boy of Steel wondered if the diminishing of his powers was another symptom of the clone-degeneration Conner assumed he was suffering from. Once again he wished Black Canary were here. He also wished Superman would talk to him, but that was never going to happen.

With a groan Conner rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. It was in that position that the Flash found him in when he came to retrieve the tray Zatara had brought the boy earlier. The elder speedster paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of the uneaten food and the prostrate boy, his face buried in his pillow as if crying. Barry sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over the boy's back in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"Hey ya, kiddo." He said. "How ya holdin' up?"

Conner rolled over and peered up at him.

"I'm fine." He lied.

Barry pushed his mask back to reveal his full face and he gave the boy his best 'c'mon be strait with me' face. It was one he had practiced often with Wally and it seemed to be moderately effective on his nephew.

"I'm just…" The boy began, paused, tried again. "Its lots of things."

The Flash offered a pat on the shoulder and wondered how best to comfort the boy. He didn't know Conner as well as he did his nephew or even Robin, or Kaldur. They had been the original three sidekicks and while he hadn't ever worked with the Boy Wonder or Aqualad directly, he still knew them much better than he knew the Superboy. Barry cast his eyes around the room for inspiration.

It wasn't right to keep the boy cooped up in here. Yeah, he was well aware both Bats and Supes believed the kid was the 'inside source' Sports Master had alluded to and Bats didn't want him freely roaming the Watchtower, the Justice League's secret headquarters. The red-sun lamp was to nullify his powers and the room had been shielded from letting in any of Earth's own sun's radiation to restore his powers when this side of the station was facing Sol, but wasn't that a bit overkill? Hmf, knowing Bats he'd say 'no', the concept of 'overkill' did not exist in Bat-world. Still, the boy didn't deserve to be confined to quarters like a prisoner. He was one of them, not an enemy. If Barry was sure to stay with him and act as chaperone it should be alright to let the kid out for just a little bit. If for no other reason then to stretch his legs.

Flash stood. "C'mon, kiddo."

"Huh?" The boy blinked.

"We're going for a walk." He took the kid by the hand, attempting to lift him to his feet. He might have his powers nullified by the red-sun lamp but he was still freaking heavy. Damn kryptonian bio-molecular density.

"But Batman said-"

Barry put a finger to his lips. "What Bats doesn't know won't hurt him."

The boy rose to his feet hesitantly. He was no stranger to blatantly defying orders; he'd done so often enough both during missions and in his off-hours. But for some reason, here on Watchtower, it felt different. Or maybe it was because Superman was here. Conner had no problem defying Batman, Red Tornado or Kaldur, but he wanted Superman's approval so much that he found himself reluctant to stray from where he'd been told to stay.

"If it makes you feel any better," Barry said, "every other member of the League has defied Bats at least once before. Its kinda like a requisite now, like… like an initiation!"

"Even Superman!" Conner gaped in wide-eyed skepticism.

"Oh, especially Supes!" The Flash pulled his mask back over his face before reopening the door. "Kid, the stories I could tell…"

And he did tell. As many stories as Barry Allen knew were recounted to Conner as they walked the corridors of the space station. He told the kid of a cruise in Bermuda where Batman and Superman had met other versions of themselves from a parallel universe, how they had to team up to fight a villain called Composite that was (supposedly) made from DNA samples from the entire Justice League (the boy was very interested in that case up until the ending, still it did shine a little light on why Superman seemed so reluctant to trust him, he'd had bad experiences with clones in the past).

They talked until they reached a windowed corridor that was currently facing the sun. Conner paused to admire just how vibrant the golden light seemed through this window. His own room's window made the sun seem so dim, its light somehow subdued. He walked right up to the transparesteel pane and gazed at the bright glowing orb, Sol, suspended in the dark void. It was beautiful, so beautiful –the center around which his world turned.

"You okay, kiddo?" Barry asked.

"Yeah, actually." And he was, suddenly, for some reason Conner felt more like himself than he had in the past week. "I'm feeling pretty good."

"Glad to hear it." The speedster nodded, suddenly he seemed awkward for some reason. "Well, lets keep going."

He steered the boy away from the window towards a corridor that cut through the center of the station. They walked a bit more for a time before bumping into Zatara, likewise stretching his legs since Superman had relived him from the main bridge. He gapped at Conner, unsure of how to react to seeing the boy out and about when he was supposed to be confined to quarters.

"Thought it wasn't fair to keep the kid cooped up all the time." The speedster said by way of explanation.

"Flash," said the magician, "would you please retire with me around the corner where we may speak in hushed tones?"

The two disappeared around the corner, leaving Conner unattended for the moment (perhaps not the smartest thing to do, but he was a fairly trustworthy kid). The genomorph leaned against the corridor wall with a sigh. Great, now he'd gotten Flash in trouble. And then, he noticed the most wonderful thing, he could still hear Zatara speaking with the Flash to spite their hushed voices and distance from where he stood. Somewhere between leaving his suit and now his super-human hearing had returned. Though he knew he shouldn't, they had moved away from him because he obviously wasn't supposed to hear what they had to say, the boy listened in.

"You know he's not supposed to be wandering about the 'Tower." The magician was saying. "He's a fine enough lad, but if he really is the mole that's been giving the other children so much trouble you know we cannot risk him learning to much about our base."

Conner froze. They thought he was the mole!

"Yeah, I know but…" The Flash sounded indignant as he defended his stance but Conner had stopped listening.

Did they honestly think he was the mole? He remembered how confused J'onn had sounded when he mentioned his clone-degeneration, like he'd never heard of it before. He thought about how he had seemed to louse his powers when he had come to the Watchtower, no… not when he'd come to Watchtower, when he'd entered his room! Batman (or maybe Superman) had done something to his room to ensure that he had no power there. And he was confined to that room like a prisoner. Yes, yes they did think that he was the traitor! But, why…?

He thought about his memory lapses and blackouts. There were big gaping holes in his memory about what he'd been doing for hours at a time. He woke-up in strange places and couldn't for the life of him figure out what he was doing there or how he'd gotten there. Could he have been spying for the enemy during those times? That time in the computer room, was he stealing information? That time in the snowfield, was he passing on YJ or JLA secrets?

Suddenly, everything made so much more sense and Conner was horrified.

Back when the Cave had been attacked by Tornado's 'siblings' and they had thought that Red Tornado was the mole they had all almost died. M'gann had almost died! What if the next time be blacked out he actually succeeded where the Reds had failed? What if he did more than just steal secrets and pass on information? What if he hurt someone? What if he killed someone? Conner reeled at the notion. What if it was M'gann? He didn't think he could live with himself if he hurt her. The genomorph suddenly wished it had been clone-degeneration! He would rather die than hurt her or any of his friends for that matter! If his options were betray his Team or death, the Superboy would gladly choose death. Anything would be better than living with the knowledge that he had been the cause of his own friends' (his surrogate family's) demise.

When Flash came back around the corner, ready to escort the boy back to his room, he found that Conner had gone.

"Damn it!" The speedster cursed. He knew they shouldn't have left the boy unattended.

Clark sat in a swivel chair on the Watchtower's main bridge, his feet resting up on the console; head tilted back enjoying the sunlight that cascaded in through the large cathedral windows. The station's Sentry program was running and would alert him to any planet-side disasters or other such emergencies but at the moment, all was quiet within the countries that has signed the UN Charter authorizing the League to operate within their borders. Clark was debating whether or not he should pull up the score for the last football game. It had been Kansas State Wildcats against Arkansas Razorbacks and the farm-grown hero was loath to have missed it. But that was what happened when the Batman decided there was more important work to be done.

The All-American Alien was pulled from his internal debate, however, by the sound of hurried footsteps coming his way. It wasn't Barry, his stride would have been much much quicker, but the footfalls were to heavy to be willowy and lithe little Zatara. Their heartbeat was also quick with agitation and both of them were seasoned Leaguers and not very easily excited. That left only one person on the Tower that it could be.

He didn't know how the clone had gotten out of his room but at the moment the Man of Steel really didn't care. If he was headed for the bridge then it was safe to assume that he was somehow once again under the enemy's control and coming to either sabotage to Watchtower or else steal some of the League's most guarded secrets. Either way, Clark couldn't let it happen!

Superman was standing with his feet planted, arms crossed over his chest when Conner entered the bridge. He hadn't really been looking for his genetic-parent when he'd taken off from where Flash and Zatara had left him but now that he was here, the boy found himself latching onto the man's arms.

"It's not true, is it!" He pleaded. "Tell me it's not true!"

"What?" The Man of Steel looked truly taken aback by the boy's words and actions.

"It can't be true." This came out in something that wasn't quite a sob but sounded like it was well on its way to one. "I can't be the mole, I can't! I would rather die than betray my Team." He looked up at Superman as if seeing him for the first time. "You can kill me…"

"W-What!" If he had been taken aback before he was thrown completely off kilter now.

"You have to kill me!" The boy repeated. "It was Robin and Wally and Kaldur who first rescued me from Cadmus, I'll die before I betray them! And M'gann… if I ever hurt M'gann I swear I'd kill myself and Artemis is a member of the Team and I love my Team, I don't want to betray them, I can't be the mole! But Batman's never wrong, so before I hurt them you have to kill me!"

"You're hysterical." The Man of Steel said. "You need to calm down. I'll take you to your room." And he would also damn well find out who it was that told the boy they suspected him of being the mole.

"No." Conner dug his heels in. "You need to stop me before I hurt someone!"

Clark stopped and looked at the boy, really looked at him. Superboy was his clone and was like him in every physical aspect from the cleft in his chin to the spit-curl of his hair, looking at the genomorph was like looking at himself back in high school (sans the glasses and perhaps a touch more moody). It was a similarity that had always unnerved the Man of Steel. The boy looked like him pulled out of his past, but he wasn't him. Bruce called the boy his 'son', but Clark had never thought of the clone as such. A son he would have taught his own strict moral code from the knee, a son would have learned by example from observing his father over the years, this boy had been taught by telepathic programming, this boy did not know his code of ethics, there was no way to 'program' morality.

…And yet, for the first time since learning of the genomorph's existence, Clark saw in him something similar to himself. Not a physical feature, the boy was identical to him in every physical aspect, but something abstract, ephemeral, something that couldn't be programmed. The boy was asking him to end his life in earnest, he would rather die than cause harm to the people he cared for. It was a feeling Clark was familiar with, having felt it quite often himself when he had been the boy's age (though, perhaps not quite as strongly). For the first time in seven months, Clark felt like he understood the Superboy.

He placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "Alright, Conner, I'll stop you." The Superman found a nerve cluster where the shoulder met the neck and pinched just enough to stimulate the nerves. The boy's eyes rolled back and he went weak at the knees, Clark catching the boy before he hit the ground. "But I don't kill people."

He slung Conner over his shoulder like a sack of cornmeal and activated his JLA comm.

"This is Batman. Go ahead."

"Bruce, may I see you up here for a moment please." The Man of Steel said in a voice that practically vibrated with forced control.

"Problem?"

"Not rightly sure." Superman admitted. "But on your way could you swing by my Fortress and pick something up for me?"

Clark described the required item and where to find it. He then instructed the Dark Knight on how to bypass the door without having to use the gigantic key that rested on another mountain peak. When Bruce hung up the Man of Steel carried the unconscious Boy of Steel back to his room to lie down, to Clark's own room because he wasn't going to set a toe under that damn red-sun lamp that Bruce had rigged up in Conner's room. He laid the boy down on the scrap quilt his Ma had made for him when he had went off the college and knelt at the foot of the bed to pull off the boy's boots. He told himself he was doing so to keep the quilt clean, not out of any concern for the clone's own comfort while he slept.

…

Watchtower

Jan. 24 – (irrelevant)

Bruce materialized on the trans-pad of the main bridge to find a shame-faced and harassed looking Flash manning the monitors. He looked up at the Dark Knight from a bowl of popcorn and muttered a subdued, "Hi."

Batman only nodded in acknowledgment before making his way to the barracks and Clark's quarters. When he got there he found the door open and Conner asleep on the Superman's bed, laying on top of that ugly-as-all-get-out quilt the campy farm-boy loved so dearly. As his brain processed the full implications of that the Dark Knight took a moment's pause to wonder if the transporter beam had instead flung him into a parallel dimension.

Clark was sitting at his desk, his feet up on it, a portable datapad in his hands, and replays from last Monday's football game projected over the screen. The Superman paused the video and tossed the pad on the desk before turning his head to face his comrade.

"Why isn't he in his own room?" Bruce asked. He had left strict orders that he was not to leave the confines of the suit where the red-sun radiation could no longer effect him.

"Didn't want to leave him unsupervised." Clark lowered his feet from the desk and stood. "In case he woke up and tried to hurt himself."

"Why would he?" Batman blinked. What the hell had happened while he was planet-side? Honestly, he leaves for a couple days and everything falls apart without him.

"Someone let slip that we think he's the mole." Clark explained. "The next thing I know, he's begging me to kill him because he'd rather die than betray the Team. I knocked him out, but I don't know how long he'll stay down. Did you bring what I asked?"

Bruce passed the Man of Steel the small bottle he'd described. "What is it?"

"A sedative." Clark unscrewed the lid and withdrew a small eyedropper from the bottle. He mixed two drops in a glass of water he'd already set on the bedside table. "Its something I use on myself sometimes."

Batman watched as he replaced the lid on the bottle and stowed it in a drawer of his desk. And then, the Man of Steel did the most unbelievable thing. He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a strand of hair off the boy's forehead. Bruce saw it, he watched it happen, but he just wasn't sure if he believed it. Once again the Dark Knight found himself contemplating the parallel universe theory. That might be a Conner Kent laying unconscious in the bed, but it wasn't then Conner Kent from his Young Justice team, that might be a Superman who sat beside the boy with a face full of concern, but it certainly wasn't his Superman.

"Do you want to tell me more about what happened?" Bruce ventured.

"There isn't really much else to tell." Clark admitted. "He found out he was the mole and then freaked out."

That might be true, but the boy's outburst had obviously affected him. Batman crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the Superman to elaborate. The seconds ticked by between them. Then, with a dejected sigh the Superman began to speak. He didn't turn to face the Dark Knight, and Bruce knew that it was because the Man of Steel didn't want him to see the emotion that was clearly heard in his voice.

"How do you program morality into something, Bruce?" He began softly. The Dark Knight was about to respond with 'you can't', but Clark continued before he had the chance to. The question was rhetorical. "How do you make an intelligent self-aware non-human loyal to human beings? You can't, that's how. Morality is something that must be learned through experience, loyalty is something that can only be given away freely. When Superboy… When Conner first appeared I was weary of him."

"I know."

Clark seemed to ignore him. "Not just because he was created to kill and replace me, although that was part of it. But also because… because he's an intelligent self-aware artificial being with the potential for above human intelligence. But he's not human and can never be human. I thought that when he realized that fact the isolation that he'd feel, the alienation and estrangement he'd feel would drive him mad. He might let innocent people die when he could have saved them just for the heck of it because he would have no loyalty to human beings. I know this because… because I felt that way allot when I was his age."

If the Batman was startled by that confession he did not show it.

"I'm not human, Bruce, I've never been human and I never will be human. But I have a strict moral code which I adhere to and an indomitable loyalty to humanity because of how I was raised. I live in a world of creatures that will never truly understand me and there have been times where I just want to say 'fuck it' and let the world go to hell in a hand basket, but I don't. I didn't want to train Conner because when he realized he's never fit in and said 'fuck it' I didn't want him to have full command of all his kryptonian powers, I wanted the League to have every possible advantage they could have over him. But today he showed me something, something I didn't think could be programmed. It was more than just 'loyalty', Bruce, it was a depth of commitment that could only be called 'love'."

Now he did turn to look at the Batman and Bruce saw a churning sea of mingled guilt and pride in the man's crystal blue eyes.

"He would have rather died than betray his friends." He continued. "Bruce, he asked me to kill him because he was afraid he would hurt the Team. I… You know why I gave you that kryptonite ring way back when, right? When Conner said that, I saw… myself looking up at me through his eyes. Not just a clone of me but the part of me that makes me 'me'. And I realized, he really is… my son!"


	3. Interlude

Watchtower

Jan. 26 – (irrelevant)

Loath thought he was to admit it; Bruce had to concede that Barry was right –it was not fair to keep Conner locked up like a prisoner. He might have passed on classified information while under the enemy's control, but the boy could not be held accountable for that and it was wrong to punish him for things he did (or might have done) while being manipulated by a third party.

But they couldn't send him back to the Cave. As Clark had pointed out, he would be a danger to the other children, especially since Bruce had discovered the enemy's signal imbedded in more than just TV static now. Talk then turned to where else the boy could be sent.

"I might be able to take him to Oa for a while…" Hal was saying. "The Guardians might not be all that happy about it, but I see no reason why they'd really object."

The seven founders sat in the conference room on Watchtower, Batman having finally decided to bring them all in on the Conner-situation. He was finally making it a League priority not just a World's Finest priority.

"You mean, like, banish him?" Flash asked as he reached to the center of the table to where they had stacked almost a dozen pizza boxes, searching for another slice. "That's a little harsh, dude. He hasn't done anything; it's just a mind control thing. We can't kick him to the other end of the galaxy for that."

Clark silently agreed with the speedster. After seeing just how fragile the boy's emotional state was he decided that sending him so far away would be the worst possible thing for him. If and when they did find a way to put an end to the enemy's control of him for good and brought him back, he'd never trust them again. What reason would he have to? They would have been the ones to send him away. Oa would certainly be out of the enemy's reach, they'd never be able to touch the boy there, but that was about the only thing it would accomplish. There had to be another place they could put the boy.

Under the table Clark felt Bruce kick him.

"What about Atlantis?" Asked the Man of Steel. "Could Conner stay in Posidonis with you?" He focused his eyes on Orin.

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind…" The Sea King began diplomatically. "Kaldu'rham speaks very highly of the boy, as he does of all his teammates. But the city's security has already been threatened once. As much as I'd like to help I'm afraid I must look to my own people first."

It wasn't spoken aloud, but everyone heard the silent concern for his very pregnant wife beneath his polite refusal. He did not want a possible traitor with Superman-like powers staying anywhere near Mera or their unborn child. A perfectly understandable sentiment.

Again, Bruce kicked Clark under the table. The Boy Scout supposed he disserved that, he should have been more sensitive to Orin's situation, it was unfair of him to ask the man to take such a dangerous liberty with his family.

"It would be a little radical, but I could take him to Themyscira for a while." Diana offered. "He can't stay there indefinitely, but Bruce and Clark have visited the island enough in the past that my sisters wouldn't be to alarmed by a man's presence there and on the island he'd still be cut off from sources of the enemy's control." She offered a lopsided grin. "We don't get much TV or internet on Themyscira."

"That doesn't sound to bad." Clark nodded.

For a third time he felt Bruce kick him under the table, this time the action accompanied by a bat-glare.

"Dump a teenage boy on an island of nothing but hot amazon women?" Flash blinked.

"You're implying that, in such a setting, he would not remain faithful to his current romantic partner?" J'onn inquired, slightly defensive on the behalf of his niece.

"The kid's got a girlfriend?" Hal blinked. "Wow, that's… unlikely. I mean, considering his stock. –No offence, Supes."

And thus the conversation was officially derailed. For the love of Pete! They were the world's greatest heroes, all adults in their early thirties (or equivalent) and yet, somehow, they always managed to degrade into an infantile gossip-circle.

"How in the heck…?" Flash gaped. "How in the world does a guy who's less than a year old with no social skills and Supes' pedigree manage to get himself a girlfriend?"

What was this? Roast on Clark Kent's lack of a love-life day? Just because he was celibately pining after Lois didn't mean it wasn't possible for him to get a girlfriend. But this really wasn't what they had called a meeting to discuss. If they wanted to gab about each other's personal lives there was always Skype chat.

"Can we stay on point, please." The Man of Steel drummed his fingers on the table. "If no one can think of another idea, I think we should take Diana up on her offer. Conner will go to Themyscira until we find out who's controlling him and stop them."

Bruce once again gave Clark a sharp kick under the table.

"And what are you doing?" He turned to face the Dark Knight. "You're gonna hurt your foot if you keep at it."

Bruce's only response was another one of his patent-pending bat-glares, which sadly, did not seem to have an effect on the Superman today.

"You two playing footsy?" Barry swallowed his pizza and grinned.

"Should we leave you two alone?" The Green Lantern joined the red-clad speedster in his jeers.

"Well, I guess now we know why neither of them can keep a steady girlfriend." Orin jumped on the bandwagon.

Bruce silenced them all with his glare; it still worked just fine on them. "I think this meeting is adjourned." He stood to leave. "Clark, a word."

"Oh, looks like they wanted to be alone after all, Hal." The Flash flashed a smile at the Lantern.

Once out in the hall Bruce wheeled around to face the Man of Steel. "What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you made real progress the other day but now you're back to your old tune of pretending to have nothing to do with Conner."

Clark looked insulted. "Nothing to do with him? I'm trying to think of what's best for him. We can't keep him locked up on the 'Tower, but he can't go back to the Cave while he's still a danger to the other kids. Diana's island seems a good enough place for him for now."

The Batman groaned and smacked the Man of Steel on the back of the head. It hurt the Dark Knight more than it did the Boy Scout, but it was the principle of the thing that really mattered.

"What was that for?"

"You're being an idiot!" Bruce snapped. "Just how thick is that kryptonian skull of yours? What's stopping you from taking the boy?"

"You're kidding, right?" Clark gave him his best 'get real' face. "My apartment is barely big enough for even me and its smack dab in the middle of one of the most technologically dependent cities in the country. TV towers, wi-fi, cell towers, radio… bringing him there would just be asking the bad guys to reach out and grab him."

The Dark Knight was not impressed.

"What? Were you thinking of sending him to the farm?" Clark asked. "My parents would love to have him, sure. But it's a farm, not 1873. They've got a TV of their own and internet and radio. It would be just as possible for him to pick-up the enemy's dissonant cord from there and then he becomes a danger to my parents."

The Dark Knight was still not impressed. He crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to use his bat-glare on the Man of Steel for a third time. It didn't usually take this long to work on him, the Boy Scout usually folded much more quickly than this. There was a prolonged pause. Clark fidgeted. Bruce increased the intensity of his glare. Clark snarled.

"What! What do you want me to say? Yes, I want to help Conner but that doesn't mean that I can turn a blind eye to the danger he presents. Its best if he stays in a place where the enemy can't influence him and with people who'll be able to handle him if they do."

Bruce nodded in agreement.

"On Themyscira with Diana is the best place for him right now."

Bruce smacked him on the back of the head again.

"What!"

"I'm lousing my patience with you." Snarled the Batman. "You're taking Conner to your Fortress. End of discussion."

"You can't just-."

"The whole thing runs off of kryptonian crystal-tech which is not compatible with Earth's technology, everything in the place is a closed circuit. The only part of that place that can give or receive signals from the outside is your control room, which you usually keep locked anyway. I don't see a problem. –Unless you're upset that you won't be able to call it your Fortress of 'Solitude' anymore."

"That's not-"

But the Batman was already reopening the conference room door. He poked his head in just in time to hear the end of a bawdy joke the Flash was telling.

"Diana," he called. "Clark's taking Conner to his Fortress with him. You won't have to worry about a teenage boy running loose on your island after all."

…

Antarctica

Jan. 29 – 8:52 pm

A very awkward feeling Conner, carried by an equally awkward feeling Clark, landed on the icy ledge that formed the 'doorstep' of the Fortress of Solitude.

"Wait here." Ordered the Man of Steel and while Conner did not take kindly to being ordered around, he really had no choice but to comply as his genetic-parent then few off in the direction of another mountaintop leaving the boy locked outside of the Fortress in the snow.

It had taken the Man of Steel three days to 'child proof' (as Bruce put it) the Fortress. In that time, Conner had stayed on Watchtower back in his own room under the red-sun lamp and a careful watch in case he chose to take the task of removing the mole into his own hands and attempt to harm himself. The sedative Clark had asked Bruce to bring from the Fortress had been an invaluable help to that end.

While the red solar radiation from the light fixture nullified the boy's invulnerability, it did not magically turn him human, like his genetic parent his physiology remained kryptonian; and so while it became possible to pierce his skin with needles and dope him with neuroleptics, the League quickly learned that Earth-born tranquilizers intended for human use didn't exactly work on aliens. (Admittedly, common sense should have told them that, but since when has common sense actually ever been 'common'?) That was where the sedative Clark had asked Batman to get for him came in.

It was a little 'night cap' the Man of Steel had designed for himself, not as a sedative but as a relaxant –something to help him sleep after particularly anxious missions. Three drops of the home made cocktail mixed into some apple juice or just dropped directly on the tongue pacified Superman enough to get a healthy amount of sleep for a kryptonian. For Conner, whom was of a smaller height and weight than his genetic-parent and had his invulnerability nullified by red-sun radiation (artificial though it was), one drop was enough to knock him out for hours in sleeps so deep that, were it not for the fact that they could see him breathing, his keepers would have feared that they'd killed him with an over-dose.

The past three days had been like that and now that Conner had been discharged from the Watchtower the only improvement that he could see was that he would no longer have to put up with being weak and vulnerable. No red-sun lamps here!

But a prison was a prison all the same. He couldn't go home because the enemy knew where that was and how to get to him. It was 'unfair' (a word he'd decided meant 'inconvenient' within the context) to keep him on Watchtower, so he had been dumped on his genetic-parent. Two weeks ago if he'd been told he was going to stay with Superman at his Fortress of Solitude, he would have jumped for joy, whooping and hollering with elation. Now he just felt… numb? No, not exactly. Something between numb and despondent. He was coming to live with the Man of Steel (at least until the League –or maybe his Team?) put a stop to whoever was controlling him and while the circumstances that brought this about were anything but 'ideal', Conner thought he should feel more satisfaction in it. Maybe if his genetic-parent would share a conversation with him that lasted longer than two lines? Their communication thus far had been deplorably short.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes."

End of conversation.

"Are you cold?"

"I don't have my full powers back yet."

End of conversation.

"Wait here."

No response.

End of conversation.

They were a real chatty pair, weren't they. And yet, every now and again, Conner got the odd impression that Superman wanted to say something to him. During the short walk from his suit on the 'Tower to the zetta beam and then later during the long flight from the Hall of Justice in Washington to the Fortress, it seemed almost as if the Man of Steel were about to say something but just… didn't. It was a ridiculous idea, of course. The man had jumped at any and every opportunity to avoid Conner since his first discovery last summer, to think that he suddenly felt the urge to talk now was just pure fantasy. If he did have anything to say to the genomorph, it was probably just to express his displeasure at being saddled with the unwanted clone.

Superman returned promptly with a gold-colored key that was twice the size he was.

"The heck is that!" The boy exclaimed.

"Front door key." To accompany this explanation the Man of Steel thrust the over-sized key into the equally monstrous keyhole and turned. There was the sound of well-maintained gears turning, then a click and the faux-ice door bearing the S-shield swung open.

A huge white dog with a red cape attacked to his collar and an S-shield shaped tag hanging from his collar came bounding out and jumped on the Superman.

"Whoa!" He exclaimed. "Down, boy. Get down! No jumping." Then turning to face Conner. "Krypto, this is Conner, he's gonna be our guest for a while. Conner, this is Krypto."

Not knowing what else to do, the boy extended his hand out to the Super-dog whom sniffed it then looked from between boy and man in abject confusion. Of course, they would smell the same, they were in some respects the same person.

A pair of robots then greeted them from the entranceway, each bearing a shield similar to Superman's on their torso-plates, only instead of the S was a number (numbers five and three to be precise). They spoke a few words in a language that Conner did not understand and he assumed it was either an alien or a computer language since Cadmus had programmed him to be fluent in almost every major language native to Earth.

"English, please, while our guest is here." It had taken him three days to get the rest of the Fortress ready for Conner and in that time he hadn't thought to mention to the robots that they should speak English rather than Kryptonian.

"Good evening, Kal-El." They choired in hollow synthetic voices with just a small hinting at an attempt to mimic an American mid-western accent. "May we be of assistance?"

"Please take Conner's things to his room." Said the Man of Steel and the boy in question handed his travel bag off to the robot sporting the 5-sheild. It disappeared down the corridor and Superman dismissed the second one.

He led Superboy into the Fortress, giving his clone the 'grand tour' himself. Or more accurately, the tour of the areas that hadn't been sealed off from the boy. It went without saying that both the armory and the control room were off limits; Clark had even gone so far as to add a second and third level to the chambers' locks just to make sure. But the rooms containing his Time Telescope, the Mirror of Truth, the baby Sun-Eater he'd rescued had all been sealed off as well. He had also shut and locked his 'shrines' to Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, the Daily Planet and just because it happened to be in the same wing, Batman. (It was a little creepy that he kept shrines to them anyway, some time without them might do him some good.)

The parts of the Fortress that Conner was allowed access to were the grand chamber, containing the space shuttle Columbia, his 'ship building' collection (containing the Lusitania , the Titanic and the Mari Celeste, among others), his life-size chess board (though, he'd removed the wax figures of Perry White, Jimmy, Lois, and Lana Lang; but those of Lex Luthor, Batman, Braniac, etc. stayed) and various other non-lethal souvenirs from his adventures and misadventures. Also, the library, the terrariums of his recreation of the Scarlet Jungles of Krypton, his orchards, his herb gardens and a plot of soil currently resting fallow where he usually liked to grow corn and turnip-greens, his intergalactic 'zoo' (many residents of which are also the last of their kind like himself and Conner) and, of course, the living areas of bedroom, living room, shower and kitchen.

The tour ended in the kitchen. Clark turned to the boy, not really sure what he was supposed to do or say at this point and asked, "Uh, are you hungry."

"No." Conner replied. Then, as an after thought, "Thank you."

There was an awkward silence filled only by the rustle of fabrics as both men shifted their weight, neither sure what to say to the other.

"Listen…" Clark ventured hesitantly. "About what you asked me to do before…"

"Oh! Um…" The boy looked equal parts ashamed and alarmed. "Sorry. I know the League has a rule against killing. I… I promise I won't ask that again."

"That's not what I… Listen, Conner, I understand what-"

"Pardon the interruption." The Man of Steel was cut off by one of his robots, Number Nine to be precise. "But the monitors show a disturbance in Metropolis."

Superman gave a sigh. He thanked the automaton before turning his attention back to the Superboy. "Would you mind if I left? I can ask another member of the League to cover for me if you'd rather I stay."

Conner's eyes widened in shock, but then narrowed rather quickly with wary suspicion. Superman had never offered to stay with him before; he usually jumped at any excuse to get away from the boy. Why was he offering to stay now?

"No…" The boy said. "That sounds like a job for Superman. I'll still be here when you get back."

…

Mount Justice

Jan. 30 – 5:45 pm

Damn, she'd made to much food again. It had been two weeks since Black Canary had taken Conner up to the Watchtower with her and M'gann was still cooking for two. She sighed as she put the remaining half of her dinner away in tupperware containers and stowed them in the fridge. She'd take it to school for lunch tomorrow, no sense letting good food go to waste.

As she was washing dishes, M'gann couldn't help but look up and pass her eyes once again over the empty living room. The blank patch of wall that had been obscured by the Cave's large TV, the empty couch where Conner usually sat… The cushion still held the imprint of his backside; he always sat in the same place.

Black Canary hadn't said why she was taking Conner away, but the martian girl could guess. Uncle J'onn had come to see her several times in the past two weeks to ask her about her mental connections with Conner, how deep she ever went, if she noticed anything strange about his mind, why she never mentioned it to him before now… After witnessing her boyfriend's odd behavior twice and between his being taken away to Watchtower and her Uncle's questions M'gann could guess that the Superboy was under some kind of mind control, that the alleged mind control had something to do with the television and that it was very possible that the League though Conner might be the mole. All of this was just guess work, however. She was no detective, not even the protégé of one.

Still, if it was possible that the League thought that Conner was the mole, the rest of the Team had the right to know. Kaldur's withholding of the mole tip the first time around had done nothing but fracture the Team, she didn't want to go through a round of that a second time.

…

Mount Justice

Feb. 4 – 8:30 am

Batman knew there was something up with the kids the moment he entered the briefing room. It didn't take the World's Greatest Detective to figure it out. All five of them stood shoulder to shoulder in a semi-circle facing him, arms crossed over their chests, feet planted, their mouths set in firm lines, but most notable of all was that not a one of them were in their uniforms. They stood, still in their civies, glaring at the Dark Knight's entrance.

Beneath his mask, Bruce raised one curious eyebrow. He mimicked their stance, planting his feet and crossing his arms over his chest and waited for them to make their statements. He did not use his bat-glare on them, but nonetheless, they each began to fidget to varying degrees at his quiet patience.

"We wanna see Conner!" M'gann blurted out.

The Batman remained silent, but his gaze shifted ever so subtly to his own little bird whom looked uncomfortable as if battling with conflicting loyalties, but there was no plaintiff sheepishness to his body language. He had not been the one to tip the Team off. Which meant that they had figured it out on their own. He was suddenly torn between feeling frustrated and proud.

"Apologies, Batman." Kaldur stepped forward. As Team Leader, the responsibility of spokesman was his. "But Conner is one of us and we worry for him. We ask your permission to visit him. Please be aware that if you refuse this perfectly reasonable request that we are prepared to-"

"We'll strike!" Artemis cut him off.

Aqualad sighed at his comrade's outburst but continued all the same. "We will refuse any and all further missions. If you have a need of a covert team then you will either have to acquiesce to our request or else seek another black-ops outfit. Likewise, we are prepared to abstain from our usual 'sidekick duties with our individual mentors as well. I have already spoken to my king about this and he understands my feelings. I do not know if the others have yet had the opportunity to broach the subject with their respective mentors."

"Yeah, what he said." Wally nodded. "Uncle Barry's totally got my back!"

Miss Martian remained silent, but she gave the slightest of nods to indicate that her uncle was also already aware of the situation. Artemis didn't actually work with Green Arrow as a sidekick and so the threat of a strike wouldn't really affect Ollie to much, but she would still abstain from YJ missions. Hm, it wasn't often that the Dark Knight was the last to hear about things. This certainly set a precedent.

Batman was silent a moment longer. Then his eyes once again fell on his own partner. "Robin?"

"Sorry, Bats." The kid said softly. "But… I wanna see Conner too."

And with that, all five teens joined hands and sank to sit cross-legged on the floor, glaring up at the Dark Knight. It was his move.

Bruce sighed and tried his best to suppress a smile at their willful independence. Kids, they grow up so fast… His voice was its usual gruff baritone when he finally said, "I'm not the one who's permission you need to ask."

…

Metropolis

Feb. 4 – 8:45 am

Clark had decided very quickly that 'commuting' to Metropolis everyday from the Fortress was obnoxiously inconvenient. Every day he would fly from the Arctic to Clark Kent's apartment, change clothes, go to work then repeat the process in reverse at the end of the day. He had just sat down at his desk in the Daily Planet's bull-pin when his JLA comm. buzzed.

Luckily his comm was equipped with a sub-harmonic transmitter that picked up his voice even when Clark spoke at volumes to low for the human ear to hear. It was a nifty little feature that allowed the Man of Steel to answer JLA calls even when he was at work or otherwise surrounded by people. He still glanced around himself to make sure there wasn't anyone in the immediate area of his desk just to make sure before he answered, "This is Superman. Go ahead."

"Why's his voice all weird?" He heard a young female voice that might possibly have been the archer from the kids' Team. Why would Green Arrow's new apprentice be calling him?

"It's the sub-harmonic feature of his comm." Bruce's voice answered her. "He must be at work."

"Superman has a day-job!" And that would be Barry's nephew.

"Superman," Bruce began, ignoring the boy's exclamation. "I have a room full of kids here who have a question for you."

Clark paused a moment longer dreading the types of questions teenagers tended to ask. Then used a bit of logic to decide that whatever it was had to do with Conner and he decided that 'dread' might be a bit to strong of a word, but it still applied. Cautiously he said, "Go ahead."

"We apologize for disturbing you while in your civilian guise, Superman." Aqualad's calm and tempered voice sounded in his ear. "I understand that Superboy is currently staying with you in your Fortress of Solitude in the Arctic. We, the Team and I, respectfully request your permission to visit with him. Today would be ideal. Again I apologize for the short notice."

"The kids wanna have a play-date." Bruce's voice was light with amusement and Clark could almost hear the man struggling not to smile.

The Man of Steel wasn't too keen on the idea of his Fortress being invaded by a squad of teenagers. Living with Conner this past week had been easy enough, he supposed. The boy spent most of his time playing with Krypto, he and the dog got along markably well and when he wasn't with the super-pet Conner kept mostly to himself and tried to stay out of the Superman's way (something that was actually beginning to frustrate Clark as he still was yet to talk to Conner about the revelation his outburst on Watchtower had given him). The boy had just been generally downcast and mopey. As reluctant as Clark was to admit five new people to his sanctuary, maybe they were what his wayward 'son' needed to lift his spirits.

"That sounds alright."

"Great!" And that would be J'onn's niece now squealing in his ear. It hadn't taken him long during his few day stint as 'den mother' in the Cave to figure out that she and Conner were more than just roommates, her ecstatic outburst only reinforced that opinion. "I can get us there in about four hours!"

"Hear that, Uncle Supes?" That would be Robin. "We'll be there just in time for lunch. I want fried tomatoes and some of your homemade cornbread!"

"Now hang on a-"

The call was ended.

…

Fortress of Solitude

Feb. 4 – 1:06 pm

Conner was elated to see his Team. He rushed forward to greet them only to be pounced upon by a four-legged hulk of white fur and a mouth-full of sharp teeth.

"Wolf!" He smiled as the cobra-venom enhanced predator licked his face affectionately. The boy sank to his knees to pet the wolf, patting his head and scratching behind his ears.

Krypto glared at the new canine as if debating on whether or not they could be pack-mates or if the cobra-venom enhanced wolf were an unfriendly encroacher of his territory. When the wolf and the boy had finished their greetings, the Super-god trotted up to the new creature and the two began sniffing each other to become better acquainted.

"He's been pining without you." M'gann said. Conner rose back to his feet and pulled her into tight hug, kissing her on the lips. "And it looks like you pined without me." She whispered when their lips parted again.

"Whoa! Hold it!" Wally zipped between the martian girl and the kryptonian clone. "Hey, Supey, I know you haven't seen us in a while, but kissing like that is not the appropriate way of showing how much you missed us."

Artemis punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"Ya know, for the 'Fastest Boy Alive', you're pretty slow." She grabbed the red-haired speedster by the ear and pulled him away from the rest of the group to explain a few things. It was a little nice to learn that she hadn't been the last to know.

Robin and Kaldur greeted him last. They were dignified and did not hug or jump upon him, but there was much slapping for the shoulders and calling each other 'man' and 'dude'. Clark hung back and watched them, there was a strong sense of comradery between them, it was a little surprising to see in a group of people so young. He waited until they had all finished their hellos and Artemis had finished breaking the harsh news that J'onn's niece wasn't 'his little Megalicious'. It was a little nice to know that he wasn't the last to have learned of his clone's romantic commitments. He stepped forward and cleared his throat for attention.

"Okay, house rules." He announced. "Anywhere that's off limits to Conner is off limits to all of you. I'm sure Bats already explined this to you, but no outside electronics, any cell phones, radios, iPods, or whatever, please leave in Miss Martian's bio-ship. Robin, stay away from my door locks, in fact, hand over your utility-belt and gloves right now. You can have them back when you leave."

Everyone stared in shock as, with much mumbling and grumbling, the Boy Wonder complied with the Superman's request and pulled off his gloves and unclipped his utility-belt. He placed them both in the Man of Steel's outstretched hand.

"Thank you." Clark nodded to the boy. He didn't know how, but the Boy Scout was fairly certain the industrious little bird would have them back on him by the end of the hour, he was a Bat after all. But no sense in worrying about that. He turned his attention to Barry's nephew. "Kid Flash, you have free reign of the kitchen, the 'fridge is fully stocked. Number Ten is already preparing lunch for everyone. Eat whatever you want but stay away from my gardens."

He passed his eyes over Artemis, Aqualad and Miss Martian wondering if he needed to give them any individual stipulations as well. Clark's eyes fell on Conner and M'gann with their arms around each other's waists.

"Lastly, girls and boys are to maintain a distance of no less than five feet from one another."

"What?" The pair choired in unison. J'onn's niece dropped her arm obediently and wriggled out of the clone's grip. Conner looked up and asked, "Why?"

…

Fortress of Solitude

Feb. 4 – 11:45 pm

As the day dragged on, it became apparent to Clark that the children had no intention of leaving until the weekend was over, and so talk turned to possible sleeping arrangements. He had not designed his Fortress with an over abundance of living quarters, intending for it to be a place for him to get away and seek isolation and seclusion (as should have been apparent by its name). He had his own master bedroom, the slightly smaller guest room that Conner was currently occupying and then that was it. He supposed he could make the boys share Conner's room with him an give the girls his room for the night. He could spend the evening in the control room, it wasn't like he needed much sleep anyway.

But then a better, or at least, much more whimsical solution presented itself as he was wandering through the grand chamber (giving the children some space). Clark hovered over his ship collection and noted that most of them had been mostly restored. He wandered through decks examining the staterooms to judge whether or not they were serviceable. After he deemed to be so, he offered the kids a pick of the fleet. There then ensued almost an hour's worth of quoting and parodying the movie Titanic before they calmed back down, chose their respective rooms and settled in for bed.

Confident that he wouldn't have to worry about the children for a minimum of eight hours, the Man of Steel retired to his own room for the night.

Conner waited until he heard Superman's bedroom door shut, counted to one hundred then slunk out of his own room. He crept from the living area to the grand room and snuck onto the aft segment of the Titanic, seeking M'gann's room.

/'M'gann…?'/ He called to her on a psychic thread. Or rather, he thought while he stood outside her door, whether she actually picked it up or not depended entirely on her. He was not a telepath, telepathy was not a kryptonian ability. When she didn't respond he rapped gently on her stateroom door and winced as the sound echoed in his sensitive ears.

/'Who is it?'/ She sent out in that impossibly polite mental voice of hers.

/'Someone who wants to get closer to you than five feet.'/ Conner sent back.

/'Conner!'/ The door opened and she slipped out into the narrow ship's corridor. /'Won't Superman be mad at you?'/

He offered her a wicked mischievous grin and thought, /'What he doesn't know won't hurt him.'/

Wrapping an arm around her waist he pulled her body flush against his and leaned down to kiss her passionately on the lips. She moaned in response, deepening the and reaching up to tangle her hands in his short ebony hair. Conner backed them up into her room, kicking the door shut behind them and steering her towards the bed.

/'Wait!'/ She pulled back for a moment. /'What if we wake up the others?'/

Conner suppressed a grumble of frustration, it had been so long since they had been alone together. He cast his brain around thinking of possible other places within the Fortress that they could go to to be together. One place seemed serviceable enough, but M'gann might not be to thrilled about it. He grabbed her wrist, leading them back out of the room.

/'Follow me.'/

He lead her through the corridors to the terrariums containing the Scarlet Jungle, Superman's orchards, herb gardens and the as-of-yet empty plot of land that Supes said he was leaving 'fallow'. Within the chamber that held this plot, however, was a small wooden barn containing bails of hay. It was to this barn that he led M'gann.

/'What is all this stuff?'/

"Straw." Conner answered aloud. "Superman uses it as padding or feed in his intergalactic zoo." He flopped down on a bale, pulling the martian girl down with him. "Its plenty soft and we're far enough away from everyone else to not be heard."

…

Fortress of Solitude

Feb. 5 – 4:20 am

Clark sat his kitchen table ignoring a half-eaten plate of biscuits and gravy as he struggled over the Daily Planet's crossword puzzle.

12\. Across : Man of…

You'd think the answer would be 'steel' –'Man of Steel', right? But the answer was eight letters. No matter what New Age spelling of 'steel' you used you could never stretch it out to eight letters. It was very frustrating. But the worst part was that Clark knew the moment he did get the right answer it would seem so damn obvious he would kick himself in the head for not knowing it. That was what made the Daily Planet's cross words so evil.

5\. Down : God of War

Four letters, second letter A. So, it wasn't 'Ares'. If Diana where here she'd be ranting about how the one who make this stupid puzzle didn't know anything. It was as Clark was running through all of Earth's poly-theistic pantheons searching for a war-god who's name fit the criteria that Conner entered the kitchen, yawning but otherwise looking quite pleased with himself. He certainly looked worlds happier than he had seemed this past week. Clark was glad he had allowed the boy's Team to visit; maybe they could come back next weekend too? There was just one thing that was odd about the boy's appearance…

"Were you jumping on my hay bails again?"

The boy paused, looked alarmed for at moment as if he'd been caught in a forbidden act, composed himself and then said with a perfectly strait face, "Yes. Yes, I was."

He opened the 'fridge and withdrew the pitcher of orange juice, lifting the large plastic container to his lips the boy took one large swig from the pitcher's pour-spout before the Superman turned around and reminded him to use a glass. It felt so odd telling the boy to do so and Clark couldn't help but wonder if this were how his parents felt. He also wondered how long it was going to take to get him to start asking 'What, were you raised by wolves?' when correcting his manners at the table. Conner fished a glass from the cupboard and sat down at the table.

This was the first time Conner had not bolted from the room upon realizing that Superman was using it and Clark froze as if afraid the slightest movement from him might frighten the boy off again.

Number Ten paced a fresh plate of biscuits and gravy in front of Conner and the boy attacked his plate with a vigorous passion.

"Hungry are you?" Clark commented, folding his paper and setting the annoying crossword puzzle aside.

"A bit." Conner replied through a mouthful of food.

"Swallow, then talk." He reminded the boy, then reached out to pluck a straw from the boy's hair. "Am I going to find a mess next time I walk into my barn?"

Conner paused again, thought some more, then swallowed and Clark wondered what he'd done that required such careful planning before answering. "I'll clean it up."

They lapsed into silence after that, but it wasn't quite as awkward as some of their previous silences had been. Clark decided that they were making progress and he was glad for it. Not wanting to do anything to disturb this tentative easiness that had formed between them, Clark let the boy eat in peace, returning his attention to the villainous crossword. Bruce had always told him that he would never be able to go up against the Riddler, sometimes these crosswords made the Man of Steel feel like he'd never be able to beat David Bowie's character from Labyrinth, for get the Riddler.

When Conner finished his meal he pushed the plate away and complained over the fact that everyone else was still asleep. He lamented over how annoying it was to only need three to four hours of sleep a day and how abysmally boring things were. At which point Clark said he could help him with the crossword.

"Four letters, 'god of war'."

"Ares." He answered without hesitation.

"Second letter's an A."

"Mars."

"That's a planet." The kid's girlfriend was from Mars, he should know that.

"Its also the name given to the war-god of the Roman pantheon. When Rome invaded Greece…" There then followed a brief history of Greece and Rome which he recited in a monotone with a slight blankness to his eyes and Clark assumed this was his Cadmus programming manifesting.

Still, his answer fit the criteria, so he took his pencil and very lightly wrote in 'Mars'. That placed an R smack dab in the middle of the answer to 'Man of…'.

It was approaching six in the morning when the kids started filling into the kitchen. Robin was the first to rise, not surprising since Bruce had (no doubt) trained him to go on less sleep than a normal boy his own age. Clark was also not surprised to see that he wore his utility-belt slung over his shoulder. Somewhere between confiscating it from the little bird yesterday and this morning he had reclaimed it and the Man of Steel was also rather confident that he'd find little bat-shaped 'bugs' all over the Fortress after the kids left.

The Boy Wonder muttered a groggy 'Good morning' to the Superman before sitting down next to Conner. He looked his friend up and down with still sleepy looking eyes, taking in his wrinkled shirt and PJ pant, and noting that he as covered in bits of hayseed and straw but looked rather chipper to spite his messy attire and said, "You look 'heveled."

That was a new one. Clark took a moment to try and figure out what word Bruce's little bird was amputating this time. Dick's little word game was easy enough to follow so long as you kept your missing prefixes and suffixes strait. The most common prefix that he tended to drop was 'dis', adding 'dis' in front of 'heveled' gave you 'disheveled'. Oh, dear Rao! He was becoming fluent in Robinese! That settled it; he spent way to much time with Bruce and his partner.

"Yeah, I'm feeling pretty 'asterous." Conner smiled, replying in Robinese.

Oh, Rao! The boy was also fluent in the language of Robin. But more importantly, the boy smiled! Clark didn't think he's ever seen the boy actually smile before. There was that tentative, hopeful but vulnerable half-smile he'd given him back in July among the wreckage of Cadmus' surface lab. But that hadn't been a real smile, not something filled with lighthearted good humor like what he was giving Robin right now. Clark was suddenly a little jealous that Bruce's little bird could get his equivalent-son to smile while he could not.

"You might want a shower at some point." Clark suggested and he told himself it was because he was trying to be a 'responsible parent' and not because he was envious of the easy relationship Robin had with the boy.

"Yes, sir." Conner stood.

When he was gone, Robin scooted his chair closer to Clark's. "Bruce told me to give you something after I'd had enough time to observe you and Conner and decide whether or not you deserve it."

A small stone of dread sank into the man's stomach. 'Gifts' from Bats weren't usually very pleasant. "And what is it?" The Boy Wonder smacked the Man of Steel on the back of the head. It didn't hurt, of course, but that wasn't the point. He sighed. "And what was this one for?"

"You and Conner need to try and get to know each other better." And then before Clark could protest he added, "Don't worry, I gave Conner a smack last night while you were MIA. But you two have got to get your act together."

Clark sighed. "Dick, you are definitely you foster-father's son."

The other children filed out of bed slowly, all finding their way to the kitchen. M'gann was last to rise. She entered just as the other kids were finishing up their breakfasts and Clark was getting ready to leave to Metropolis (trusting the Team not to destroy the place while he was gone). The Man of Steel took one look at her, noted her cheerful face and disheveled appearance. She had morphed her clothes into that neat pink and white cardigan set he'd seen her wear most often during his stint as 'den mother', but what she could not morph out of her appearance was the hayseed and straw that covered her and stuck out of her hair at odd angled giving the red tresses an almost 'birds' nest' like look. To spite his Five Feet rule, that little clone of his had gone and taken this young woman out to the barn for a tumble in the hay… literally.

Clark wouldn't say anything to the girl about it, she was not his daughter, his niece or his sidekick, but he was honor bound to make apologies to J'onn for what his clone was doing with the martian's niece. He wasn't quite sure how things were done on Mars, but Clark had been raised 'country', where parents took responsibility for their kids, boys asked a girl's father (or uncle) for permission to date her and if a pair was caught doing something they shouldn't have, weddings were preformed soon after at gun-point (not that the threat of a shotgun really meant anything to them).

Also, he and Conner were going to have a long conversation and he was not going to let the boy avoid him on this.


	4. Searching...

Metropolis

Feb. 5 – 9:45 am

Clark thought about calling Bruce to ask his advice for dealing with the Conner-M'gann situation. The Batman had to know about their relationship, the Batman knew everything! But did he know that they were sexually active? Clark switched on his JLA comm to call the Batman.

"This is Batman. Go ahead."

"Hey, Bruce, I've got a question." Said the Superman.

"Oh, Clark!" The Dark Knight sounded equal parts pleased and surprised. "I was just about to call you. I know what the enemy got your boy to steal from our computer."

That statement pushed all thoughts of Conner's love life out of his head and Clark descended to land on a nearby rooftop. "What was it?"

"Access codes." Bruce said in that flat grave voice of his.

"Didn't he already have those?" The Man of Steel asked in confusion. "I mean, how else did he get into the computers?"

"Different kind of codes, Clark. Ya know how whenever you enter a zetta-tube it calls out 'Recognize: Superman 01'? The computer recognizes you as Superman because you've been entered into the computer and given your own call sign. Conner basically handed over the ability to give a JLA call sign to anyone. Basically, the enemy can come and go from any one of our bases whenever they please."

"Can't we just all change our access codes and lock them out?"

A low gravely growl of frustration filled the American Alien's ear. "It's not as easy as replacing a padlock on a barn-door, Clark."

'Barn', that sparked the Boy Scout's memory. "Hey, Bruce. This is a random question but, um… when do teenagers start having sex?"

Just because Conner and M'gann were rolling around in the hay together didn't necessarily mean that they were having sex, right? Conner was still less than a year old, after all, he probably wasn't ready for sex yet and M'gann seemed so well adjusted and innocent, surely she wouldn't be pressuring him for sex. It was perfectly reasonable for Clark to consider that he had jumped to conclusions this morning. However, Bruce's answer did not encourage this thought.

"If they could, they'd start in the morning and go until they collapse from dehydration."

He knew Bruce had meant it in jest but Clark was still terrified. In fact, he might have whimpered just a little at the prospect of having to take responsibility for Conner's actions and face the girl's uncle after knowing the boy for so short a time. But that was the honorable thing to do as the clone's equivalent 'father'. He would make his apologies to J'onn and if the martian asked, he'd force Conner to do right by M'gann. Damn, this was not what he needed right now.

"Oh lighten-up, Clark." If they had been talking in person, Bruce probably would have given him slap on the back. "If you're worried about Conner having sex, just sit down and talk to him. So long as they're being smart about it and taking precautions, I wouldn't worry about to much. We've got a responsible group of kids on that Team. Remember back to what it was like for you and draw on that."

Dear Rao!

"Anyway, can we stay on point please." That Dark Knight gruffness was back in his voice. "Of course I'm working on changing the access codes, we can't leave ourselves exposed and vulnerable. But its not an easy task, Clark. It'll take time to reconfigure the systems and then everyone in the League and the kids' Team will have to report back in for new recognition scans. While all that's going on, we'll still be defenseless."

"Well, at least your cave will still be safe." Superman offered a little ray of optimism. "And my Fortress too. We don't have zetta-tubes in our bases."

"Yeah…" Bruce's voice was low and grave. "In a worst case scenario, you and I just might end up playing host to the rest of the League."

"I'll bake cornbread." Clark replied, determined not to let the Dark Knight's perpetual pessimism bring him down.

…

Fortress of Solitude

Feb. 5 – 11:15 pm

Clark arrived back at the Fortress to find the kids already fed and board out of the skulls. Because, apparently, there weren't enough interesting artifacts within the grand room to keep them amused, they could only feed the animals in his zoo so many times before that got dull, none of them really had any interest in his gardens (a fact Clark was actually glad for) and they were all 'to cool' to find interest in his rather extensive library. So, when the Superman arrived back at his 'winter home' (as Bruce had started calling it), ready to hang up his cape and slip into some PJ pants and a ratty T-shirt to relax, he was greeted by the site of his living room completely rearranged.

The cushions and pillows had been pulled off the couch. The couch and chairs had then been arranged in a simi-circle, the coffee table had been moved out of the room completely and stood propped up against a wall in the corridor (partially blocking his path). Blankets and sheets had been thrown over the top of the simi-circle of furniture like a tent, the center of which came to an almost perfect point, held up by a line of Robin's bat-rope that had been suspended between two stalactite-like crystals protruding from the ceiling. From beneath the mini-circus tent Clark heard the distinct sound of giggles and snickering.

Ah, children.

He debated a moment or two over whether or not to disturb them, they sounded like they were having so much fun. But it was almost midnight on a school night, so the Superman pulled back the sheet to reveal six startled looking teens.

"Weekend's over." He announced. "Go home."

There was much moaning and groaning and the mumblings of protests that Clark was pretty sure he wasn't actually meant to hear. But the kids obediently got up from their game (whatever it was) and began packing up their things to return home. He had the robots bring out M'gann's martian bio-ship, watched Conner say his good-byes as they boarded, and walked back inside with the boy after they left.

Once back inside, Conner hesitantly said, "Robin dared me… That is, we were playing Truth or Dare and on Robin's turn he dared me to ask you if I could call you by your real name. So, uh, can I… Can I call you Kal-El? You can say no, Superman. Its okay, the dare was just for me to ask."

Clark led them through the corridor back to the living areas of the Fortress, pausing to pick-up his displaced coffee table. Taking a moment to consider the boy's request. It wasn't like he would be revealing his identity to an enemy spy; everyone knew the name Kal-El. He had told it to Lois in one of their first interviews and while no many widely referred to him as 'Kal-El of Krypton' it was still a publicly known name. Oh the flip-side, however, Robin had probably meant for him to tell the boy his real name was Clark Kent and that J'onn had suggested the bot's surname after him. Clark did feel a compulsion to give the boy his Earth-name, he had wanted to try and connect with Conner ever since his outburst on Watchtower, when he realized that the Superboy was like him in spirit as well as in body. But some part of him hesitated. (Probably that part of him that had spent too much time with the ever-paranoid Batman.)

So it was ever so hesitantly that the Superman answered, "Sure."

A smile of true pleasure spread over the boy's face at his answer. Not the light-hearted and easy smile he'd given Robin at breakfast, but neither was it the vulnerable and hesitant smile the boy had shown him among the ruins of Cadmus back in July. It was the kind of smile a person made when a request they were sure would be denied was suddenly granted, a sort of disbelieving joy. Clark replaced his coffee table in its proper setting in the living room and returned the boy's smile with one of his own, his a little awkward.

Something passed between them in that moment. A connection of sorts that was both a little bit more than but also slightly less than an 'understanding'; a feeling that skated on the edges of uchahvia –synergy, one of the Girod, the eleven kryptonian virtues. It was this feeling that prompted Clark to suddenly offer, "Would you like me to give you a kryptonian name?"

The boy froze in abject disbelief. He stood staring at the Man of Steel as if paralyzed by the pure shock of Clark's innocent question. And then, in a rush of words so slurred by excitement that even the Superman was unable to decipher it, he said, "Coodyut'chmikyptonian, too!"

Clark cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"Kryptonian!" Conner repeated. "Kryptonese…whatever, the language! Can you teach me that too! And the culture! And history! All of it! I wanna know! Could you? Would you? I mean," he took a moment to recompose himself, "would you please also teach me about Krypton, Kal-El?"

"S-sure." Clark was a little taken aback by the strength and passion of the boy's request, but there was no reason to deny it and it would be the perfect way for them to get to know each other better. After spending a week as frosty roommates (no pun intended, considering the Fortress' location), it would be nice to finally be able to connect to the boy he'd come to view as the equivalent to a son. "But first, you're gonna help me straiten out this mess your Team made of my living room."

"Right." Conner nodded and set to work straitening chairs while Kal-El floated up to untie the bat-rope that had suspended their 'tent'.

It was as he and Kal were folding the sheet that one of the robots entered carrying a small tray of what looked like tiny bat-shaped chits. "Please pardon the interruption, sirs." It said in its impossibly polite synthetic voice. "But the Robin seems to have left some of his possessions behind. Shall I put them away until he can come back to retrieve them, or would you prefer to take them with you next time you go out to, return them yourself?"

The pair paused in their clean-up to examine the bat-chits.

"Hey, isn't that Batman's spy wear?" Asked Conner.

Kal picked up one bat-shaped bug and glared at it, wondering if Bruce was monitoring at that moment and could see him.

"Are you Big Brother now?" He asked the tiny listening device knowing full well that he wouldn't get an answer. But then he didn't need one. Bruce had always been overly paranoid, in fact, Kal was rather surprised that the Batman hadn't already bat-bugged out his entire Fortress before now. With a sigh, the Man of Steel dropped the bug back in the tray with the others. "Please replace them exactly how Robin left them."

"Yes, sir." The robot left.

"Hey, how come you didn't get any of them to clean up the living room?" Conner asked, referring to the over two dozen robots that also inhabited the Fortress.

"Cleaning up after yourself builds character." Kal replied without pause. Also, Ma had drilled the habit into him so thoroughly that he sometimes forgot he had other things to do it for him when staying at the Fortress. "Now then, the kryptonian alphabet has one hundred and eighteen characters…"

…

Fortress of Not-Quite-Solitude

February (no specific date)

Over the following few weeks Kal-El worked with Conner teaching him the one hundred and eighteen characters of the kryptonian alphabet and their respective sounds as well as kryptonian history and how closely their own family's history tied in with it and reflected on a suitable name for the boy. He had already missed out on the chance to give him a civilian name, Kal wanted to make up for it by giving Conner the best damn kryptonian name he could possibly think of.

He thought momentarily about naming him after one of his ancestors, perhaps Erok-El, the first Bethgar of Urrika also the first member of their line to take the name of 'El' –the star. Or perhaps Jaf-El, whom saved his people from a flood that purged over half the planet. Or maybe Jor-El after his father? Jor-El III. But no, naming the boy after someone else might put unnecessary pressure on him, as if he had to live up to the name. Conner already had enough pressure being Superman's clone, he didn't need anymore. Kal would just have to come up with something on his own without resorting to recycling the names of his ancestors.

On the weekends, the Team would come to visit and sometimes during the week as well if they could find a time when all five of them were off from school. Their visits became so frequent that Kal finally caved and forsook the security of his Fortress and told them how to bypass the main door to enter. After that, it started to feel like the kids lived at the Fortress with him and Conner rather than at Mount Justice or even their own homes. Artemis and Kid Flash (under Robin's encouragement, no doubt) had even started calling him 'Uncle Supes'. Kal still wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

They would drop whatever entertainment they'd found for themselves while he was out and beg a story out of him. Sitting in the living room, sometimes in their makeshift tent, other times in proper chairs the Team would ask him to tell an embarrassing story about one of their mentors or maybe a tale of Krypton. They made an event out of it, with hot chocolate and smores… Kal-El started to feel like a real Boy Scout sitting under their circus-tent sheet and telling tales –camping out in his own living room.

After sharing the story of the unification of the warring tribes of Urrika and how the Els became the first ruling house of Krypton, M'gann had gone starry eyed and turned to gaze at Conner, a dreamy expression on her face as she muttered, "Wow, you're a prince…"

This elicited a chorus of groans from the rest of the Team and Conner had looked rather uncomfortable and just a tad bit confused. For the most part, Kal-El tried not to worry about the relationship between his clone and the martian girl. Bruce had told him not to worry and Bruce was usually right about most things. He had spoken to J'onn about it briefly during his most recent Watch duty and the Martian Manhunter had seemed equally unconcerned. Well, if the girl's family didn't mind then it was no business of his. As Bruce had said, as long as they were being smart about it he wouldn't worry. Of course, that still didn't stop him from having a very uncomfortable conversation with Conner over his relationship with the girl.

He took the boy aside one morning before leaving for Metropolis and asked flat-out what his relationship was with her. Kal had then proceeded to give the boy a short lecture on responsibility and gentlemanly behavior, then a longer lecture on safety and accountability. He reminded Conner that just because he was immune to almost every virus in this solar system that did not mean that he couldn't pass something on to his partner. Kal had also regrettably admitted that Earth-made condoms weren't exactly 'durable' enough for them and he (with great difficulty and a very very bright and uncomfortable blush covering his face from ears to neck) offered to make some 'kryptonian strength' condoms for Conner's use.

The boy had then turned an equally vivid shade of red. He thanked Kal-El for the offer, his advice, and his concern but assured his genetic parent that he and M'gann had that area under control. Kal made them anyway and left the foil-wrapped rubbers in the living area where the boy would be sure to find them. The next time the Team came around for a visit, the Superman couldn't help but notice that the batch of condoms he'd made for the boy had 'mysteriously' vanished.

…

Metropolis

Feb. 20 – 11:55 am

Clark… Kal-El… whatever name he was going by these days; at work Clark, at home (he'd come to call the Fortress 'home' rather than just a base now) he was Kal-El and at his other work he was Superman. He was making his lunch-hour circuit of the city when he heard it.

It had been almost a moth since the Man of Steel had heard that dissonant cord. Like an E flat being pulled against an open A. He paused in mid-air; hovering above the city he honed his hearing to try and zero-in on its source. Bruce had said that they were imbedding the signal in more than just TV static now. That it was also in radio waves, actual television programs and commercials, internet pop-ups, maybe even memes; but Kal was to high up for any imbedded signals to be reaching him when he wasn't already looking for them. Even now when he had tuned his hearing into the dissonant melody he could not identify it as coming from any particular building. It was not coming from the city below him.

There was a directionality to the sound, though. Slightly louder to the north-east than it was to the west or south-west. Whatever was the source of the dissonant cord was coming from somewhere outside of Metropolis. Kal-El focused his ears on the signal and sped off in the direction from which it seemed to come.

He zoomed over New York and crossed the boarder into Rhode Island but it was as he entered Massachusetts that Kal paused and turned back. He had over shot the sound's source. It was coming from somewhere in Rhode Island and a sharp stab of something that might possibly have been fear hit him in the stomach. Mount Justice was in Rhode Island.

Bruce did say that the enemy would be able to get to the boy so long as he was at the Cave. The base wasn't exactly a secret one. They were hiding the kids in plain sight and the base had already been attacked once. Kal was glad that Conner was safe up north in the Fortress, but what about the others? If the enemy was trying to find Conner and attacked the base to get at him, what would they do to the other kids?

The Man of Steel zoomed to the mountain. He landed and perched on its peak, using his X-ray vision to scan the inside. Red Tornado was in the library with a book in one cybernetic hand and a Cliff Notes in the other, no doubt attempting to expand his human understanding. M'gann was not present; it being a weekday Kal imagined she was probably in school. No other mentors or Team members were present. All seemed fine at the Mt. Justice base. Kal breathed a sigh of relif.

But he could still hear the cord.

Turning his attention from the base, Superman narrowed his hearing to block-out everything but that one disharmonious melody. He strained his concentration until he could hear its path, almost like seeing a beacon and tether leading him to the sound's origin. Once again Kal found himself airborne. He followed the cord to the outskirts of Happy Harbor, but before he could reach the source, the signal stopped, almost as if someone had simply flipped a switch and turned it off, the dissonant cord was gone. Superman once again paused in flight, scanning the area with all his senses.

There was a sharp BOOM, not quite like the sound barrier being breached, but definitely like some barrier of one sort or another had been broken, then Kal saw what he could only describe as a tube of light appear. He flew to it, but with a second loud BOOM the tube was gone leaving behind no evidence of what it was or who had made it.

…

Wayne Enterprises – Gotham Offices

Feb. 20 – 12:20

Bruce Wayne, Gotham Prince, notorious playboy, owner and CEO of the economic super-power Wayne Enterprises hated it when his friends from his 'extra-curricular activities' bothered him at work. With a sound that we are not going to call a 'growl' (because Bruce Wayne doesn't do that sort of stuff) Wayne reached up to his ear and replaced his bluetooth with an earpiece of a different sort.

In a voice just barely louder than the sound of him breathing he said, "This is Batman. Go ahead."

"Bruce," Clark's voice came over the channel sounding agitated and worried. "I think we have a problem. I'm in Rhode Island right now, I can be in Gotham in five. We need to talk."

'Five' coming from the Superman meant 'five seconds' not 'five minuets'. Bruce switched off his comm and pushed his chair back from the desk. As important as maintaining his civilian identity was, the Batman and the JLA came first.

Clark was already waiting for him by the time he turned the silver Lamborghini behind the faux rock wall that concealed the Batcave. Pacing back and forth in front of the large monitor array, his hand's clasp behind his back wrinkling his cape, his mouth set in a grim line of anxiety. He hovered over to the car before Bruce even had the chance to climb out.

"They're looking for him." The Superman blurted out. "They knew he was living at the Cave so they were looking for him at the Cave but they didn't find him there, now I don't know what they're gonna do, but they're looking for him. Thank Rao he's safe at the Fortress! But, Bruce, what am I going to do?"

"You saw them?" Bruce all but jumped out of his car. "You know who the enemy is?"

"N-no…" Clark had to reluctantly admit. "I was in Metropolis when I heard the cord. It wasn't coming from a TV or computer or anything, it wasn't an imbedded signal. It was just the signal, just the melody, Bruce –it was a direct broadcast. I followed the sound to just outside Happy Harbor where it stopped. Then there was a loud boom, not an explosion or anything. It was more like when I break the sound barrier only it wasn't like breaking the sound barrier. Then there was something that looked like a tunnel of light but I didn't get down there in time and when I did it was gone and there was no trace of the enemy."

"You say there was a 'boom' and then a tunnel of light?" The Dark Knight echoed. He loosened the red tie he'd worn to work that day, (damn things were miserably uncomfortable) and made a B-line for the Bat-computer and his monitor array. "Was it like a tube?"

"Sure. Why not." The Superman floated after the Batman and hovered behind his chair. "But, Bruce, what does it matter what their magic teleporting thingy looked like? They're out there and they're trying to get their dirty reprehensibly fiendish and rotten hands on my son!"

Had this statement been preceded by any other news or comments by the Superman, the Caped Crusader would have turned around to bring attention to Clark's use of the word 'son'. Even after the revelation he had experienced on Watchtower, the red and blue Boy Scout had tried his best to avoid continued use of the word. Perhaps this was a sign that he and Conner were finally starting to bond? Or more likely it just showed how deeply this still nameless and faceless threat affected the All-American Alien. Either way, the World's Greatest Detective did not have time to waste on the Superman's emotional development. His description of the enemy's sudden vanishing act sparked a bit of memory. He pulled up Conner's report from when he'd run away shortly after the failed training simulation.

In the report, Superboy mentioned that both the Forever People and Intergang used the same inter-dimensional teleportation devices. He went on to describe the portals they created as 'tubes of light' that both appeared with a loud 'boom' and were closed with the same sound for punctuation. The one called Dreamer had explained them as 'Boom Tubes' and that they were used on both New Genesis and Apokolips for interdementional travel as well as through space. Now the question was: 'What in the multi-verse did people from another world want with Earth and why did they still seem to need Superboy?'

(Okay, so maybe that was two questions.)

"Clark, I think I have an idea of who might be helping the ones controlling Conner, if not the actual culprits themselves."

That snapped the Superman back to attention, pushing the still unfamiliar feeling of parental-panic to the side long enough to read Conner's report projected on the monitor screen. "Intergang?" He sounded skeptical. "They're dangerous, but this is a bit out of their league, don't you think?"

"You're focusing on the familiar and drawing the wrong conclusion." Chided the World's Greatest Detective. "Go back over it, this time think about the new and unfamiliar players…"

He did.

"Apokolips and New Genesis…" He muttered, crossing his blue-spandex clad arms over his broad chest. "If Apokolips is supplying Intergang with weapons and other technology then they might be supplying other villains as well."

"Aw, look who gets a gold star on his homework." Bruce did not smile as he said this, the Batman rarely smiled. Still, the playful humor was present enough for the Superman to pick-up on. There were very few that the Dark Knight ever felt comfortable enough around to actually joke with, but Clark was glad to be counted as one of them.

"So, what do I do?"

"For now? There's not much we can do." Bruce minimized Conner's report on his little 'outing' and opened a second window to log into Watchtower's Sentry program. He sifted through the program's recent history, looking specifically over the eastern seaboard for anything suspicious. "There was an unusual energy surge in Rhode Island today at five to noon and then a second almost thirty minuets later."

"Those would be about the time I first heard the cord and when it vanished." Clark nodded.

Bruce turned back to the computer array. "It matches similar energy surges from the same night of Superboy's encounter as well as times going as far back as their mission to Bialya. Since Watchtower can detect their teleportation devices when activated, we can track their movements and look for any patterns that could give a clue at to their motives-"

"And if they get close to Conner!"

"Yes, that too." My, my, my, look who was quickly turning into an over-protective mother hen. "But try not to bring this trouble home with you, don't let Conner know his puppet-masters are looking for him. You don't want a repeat of his episode on Watchtower, do you?"

"No." Sober, quiet, ever so slightly guilty.

"The best thing you can do for him right now is exactly what you have been doing for the past two weeks. Just keep teaching him Kryptonese and kryptonian history. He's enjoying himself and he trusts you."

Kal-El smiled to himself. He didn't bother asking how the Dark Knight, the 'Big Brother' of superheroes knew about his lessons with the boy. Even if the whole Fortress hadn't been bugged-out with his spy wear, he was sure Robin still gave him weekly reports. Bruce was probably more informed about Conner's activities than Kal was and he lived with the boy.

"I'm also finding it to be a nice refresher-course for myself." The Batman grinned. "You should break-out some of those old ballads you got from Kandor. I'm especially fond of 'the Voyage of Val-El', there's something very Nordic about it."

Kal sighed. "Well, I'd rather play him some Garth Brooks and Loanstar. But since those aren't options…"

…

Fortress of Solitude  
Feb. 24 – 1:45 am

"So, I was thinking you might have had enough of the folksy stuff, how about symphony music!" Kal smiled as he set three small audiocrystals beside the crystalplayer in the living room.

Conner knelt on the floor at the coffee table, studying the corrections Kal had made to his translation of 'the Flight of Hyr-El'. Kal had used the English word 'flight' when telling the boy the title and that had confused the ever-living-daylights out of him until he was halfway through the second movement when it hit him that 'flight' was used as a romanticized alternative for 'escape'. The result was having almost the entire first half of his translation covered in red pen corrections while the second half only had the spelling or grammar errors marked. He looked up from the page.

"Symphonies, that's just strait music, right? No lyrics?" 'No difficult translations?' Was the unspoken question.

"Nope." Kal nodded. "I thought it would be some nice background noise while you got started on the saga of the 'Bethgar of Urrika'."

The boy groaned. Kryptonian literature was hard. It was like all their writers reached the Renaissance and then said, 'Eh, we're good. We don't need to evolve beyond this.' Every damn author Conner had read and translated so far was like Marlowe, Dante, or Lanyer. Thank Rao Kal hadn't given him any kryptonian 'Shakespeare' yet!

"Ya know, they say that playing classical music while you study helps you learn."

"'They' say lots of things."

Kal only shrugged and selected a crystal to listen to. He fit it into the player and skipped the orchestra's warm-up to dive right into the first movement. He then sat down with Conner to begin reading the saga of the 'Bethgar of Urrika', a tale of three generations of leaders during the Era of Warring Tribes, before Erok-El had claimed power and unified the continent.

Music filled the living area, soft and slow at first but climbing in tempo. Beginning with low wind instruments first, a combination of woodwinds and a metal flute similar to Earth's oboe (though, obviously not made from the same material). They set the melody, but as cadence continued to climb, the winds were joined by moderate percussion, not to bold they were trying to study after all. But then the strings joined the melody and Conner gave a yelp as if in pain, his hands flying up to grasp his head.

"Conner?" Kal-El placed a hand on his equivalent-son's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

At first the boy did not answer. He groaned, clutching his head, his teeth gritted against the apparent pain. He pushed away from the coffee table enough to collapse on the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"Conner, what's wrong?" Now Kal was very concerned. "Conner, talk to me! Conner, look at me!"

The boy cracked one eyelid, his crystal blue iris peering between his splayed fingers at his genetic-parent. "It… hurts…"

"What hurts? Conner, keep talking. Focus on me. What hurts?"

"I don't… know!"

He writhed on the floor, Kal-El looking on helplessly not sure what he should do to help the boy. Then, the music in the player shifted. The kryptonian string instruments faded to the background of the melody allowing the winds to return to the forefront before the song ended and they were given a moment of silence before the next track began.

"It's… gone." Conner pushed himself back up into a sitting position. Kal placed a strong, supportive hand on his back. "I don't know what happened. My head hurt so much and then it just stopped."

"I think you've had enough studying for one night." The Superman helped the boy to his feet. "C'mon, lets get you to bed. I'll ask J'onn to stop by tomorrow. You won't mind him looking into your mind again, would you?"

…

Fortress of Solitude

Feb. 25 – 9:00 am

J'onn came over a few hours after Kal-El left for Metropolis, M'gann tagged along with him to play 'nurse' while her uncle examined Conner. She had morphed her bio-clothing into what she assumed was traditional nurse's attire. Conner wondered if he should tell her that real nurses wore scrubs, not mini-skirts, garter belt, and cherry-red platform heels. Then she bent over to pet Wolf and Krypto and he decided he'd much rather just let her keep wearing that, the view was worlds better than any frumpy scrubs would be.

Then J'onn cleared his throat and the Superboy was forced to take his eyes off his very fetching girlfriend. Of course, the girl's uncle would not appreciate Conner's surface most thoughts to be inappropriate visions of his niece when he delved into the boy's mind. He tried his best to compose himself and relax.

J'onn did as he had often done during their sessions on Watchtower, coasting over his Outer and Inner Webs to the boy's core. Aside from the other sleeping presence that the martian had already noted weeks ago, there was no noticeable change in Conner's mind. Well, he did seem a bit more tempered and contented since he'd started living with his genetic-parent, but J'onn was fairly sure that was cause for celebration rather than concern. He pulled out of the boy's mind and asked him what he'd been doing when the episode had occurred.

"Just studying with Kal-El." He answered simply.

He had given Black Canary an equally unhelpful answer when he first confided in her about his blackouts and memory lapses, but J'onn refused to believe that Conner was that unmindful of his surroundings. "What else was happening while you were studying?" He asked. "Were the dogs in the room? Or one of Superman's robots? Maybe an item from outside that one of the Team might have left?"

"No." Conner shrugged. "Wolf and Krypto were playing in the gardens, Numbers One through Twenty-Four were working in the parts of the Fortress I'm not allowed in, and no one left anything here last time they were over. It was just me and Kal. Oh! He did put on some music. But I don't think that was it."

"Would you please play it for me?" The martian asked.

"Sure." Conner stood and crossed the living room to the crystalplayer with the same audiocrystal from the previous day in it. He switched on the kryptonian stereo and, like Kal had done, skipped over the orchestra's warm-up track to dive right into the first movement.

"Thank you. Please sit back down."

Conner did as he was told and J'onn resumed his study of the boy's mind, this time how it was affected by the music. As the rythem picked up, the boy's serotonin levels began to rise, but that was normal of most all sentient beings and was not out of the ordinary. That was one of the things that set music apart from other arts like poetry and literature. They rely on the rational transport to inspire an emotion. They are meditated from words while music omits that stage and communicates emotions directly. Music did not pass through rationality to express its essence.

…And then the strings took up the rhythm.

J'onn was so socked by the sudden change in the boy's mind that he almost retreated out of it. Waves of angry dissonance reverberated outwards from the boy's Chalice, no, not his Chalice from that dormant presence that clung to his Chalice. Whatever had attached itself to Conner's center did not like the sound of string instruments from Krypton. It seemed almost like whatever it was were trying to push the sound or maybe the sensations it caused out of the boy's mind. This caused shockwaves that quaked through his Inner and Outer Webs. It was no wonder he had felt such pain. In a greater intensity it might run the risk of ripping his Webs to shreds and reducing him back to just his basic core Self.

"M'gann, please turn off the music."

She stared at the alien symbols for a moment or two, Kryptonese not being one of the languages offered for study on Mars, before she pressed a finger to the symbol she was pretty sure was equivalent to 'On/Off'. Whatever it was she had pressed in actuality didn't matter, the music stopped and with it the chaos of Conner's mind. The boy returned to normal with no sign of the inner violence that had torn through him only moments before. The martian pulled out and looked at the boy.

"Conner, are you okay?" M'gann came up to stand behind her uncle.

"Yeah." He said. "After it stops it feels like it never happened."

J'onn nodded. That was consistent with what he'd experienced while in the boy's mind. "I will need to speak to Superman about what I've learned. The input of someone more knowledgeable about kryptonians than I would be helpful. As for you, I suggest steering clear of the orchestra's sting section. Try percussion, that's where the piano lives and pianos are beautiful."

(Assuming, of course, Krypton had an instrument equivalent to the piano.)

"Uh, sure…" Conner didn't really know much about music, but then, it wasn't really something he was all that into.

…

Fortress of Solitude

March 2 – 3:45 pm

Kal-El decided to ease-up on the language and history tutoring a bit and began breaking-up study sessions with something else that was equally near and dear to the alien's heart. Good ol' American football! Since relocating his residence to the Fortress Kal had missed almost the entire season. (He heard that Kansas State lost to Gotham U, damn Knights!) So he figured, why not teach Conner the game and play a little one-on-one in their spare time?

Their 'one-on-one' matches were really more like 'keep away' and Kal soon learned that in an all-out match between himself and his clone it was better to play outside. So, after Conner helped him clean up the grand room and patch-up the damage done to his restoration of the Lusitania, their games were moved to the ice-fields of the Arctic. It was the first time since he'd come to live at the Fortress that Kal allowed the boy outside.

During one of these outdoor matches that the Team arrived for one of their weekend visits.

At first all that could be seen from the martian bio-ship were the clouds of snow and ice kicked up from their tackles, shock-waves reverberating through the snow and radiating cracks in the ice. M'gann circled the ship around the field while everyone wondered if Conner had snapped into mole-mode again and Uncle Supes was trying to subdue him. When she did finally land the ship (in camouflage mode), everyone climbed out to approach the battlefield cautiously.

Conner seemed to be running with something in his hands, but no sooner had he gotten a few paces away when the Man of Steel pounced on the boy, knocking him through the ice-sheet and wrestling whatever it was he carried from his arms.

"Whoot! That's Kal five and Con two!"

It was then that the Team saw the thing they had fought over was a strangely textured and slightly beat-up looking football. They were playing a game?

Uncle Supes looked up at them, then turned back to the hole in the ice. "Hey, Conner, you're friends are here."

There was no answer from the boy, but the gurgle of frigid water under ice.

"Conner…?" The Superman ventured again, the slightest bit of concern slipping into his voice.

Then with a loud crash and splash, the ice behind Superman burst under the force of the Superboy propelling himself fists first though it. He grabbed the Man of Steel's cape and flipped it over the man's head, taking advantage of the distraction he plucked that football from his hands and gave a whoop of his own.

"Ha! Got you old man! That makes us five-three. Although, it should be four-three for that out-of-bounds you threw." He then turned to face his Team. "Oh, hey guys."

Uncle Supes righted his cape, he had long since forfeited his dignity when he allowed the kids to start calling him 'uncle'. "Nice. You managed to pull one over on me." Oh, the pun, it burns! "There's hot chocolate and cider in the kitchen if you want it. I guess I better call Watchtower and see if one of the Lanterns can retrieve that out-of-bounds."

"Wouldn't it just burn-up when it reached escape velocity?" Asked Conner.

"Pff, not one of my balls." The Superman flew off to retrieve the giant key to his Fortress that was usually disguised as an airline marker (an obsolete navigation took now thanks to satellite tracking). When he had the door open Kal turned back to the kids. "Well?"

"Can we…" Conner ventured meekly. "Can we maybe play a little out here? We won't be out long, not everyone is as tolerant of the cold as we are." Robin, Artemis and Wally were already shivering.

Kal knew he should say 'no'. The enemy was still out there and Conner was still susceptible to their control. But there was five of them to try and subdue him and they would be right outside and he was home and could respond immediately if something did happen. It should be fine if they just played one game outside…

"Sure. But remember the others aren't as durable as you are."

…and that was the first time since he'd come to live at the Fortress that he allowed the boy outside unsupervised.

…  
Washington, DC

March 5 – 12:00 pm

DC, as in Washington DC was bit farther from Metropolis than Happy Harbor (a 'bit' being a relative term considering the method of travel). In this case the method of travel was flight and the 'bit' was roughly over a hundred miles. It was worrisome the distance the mysterious enemy's signal could travel and still be heard, but Kal-El was determined to find its source this time.

Since he had first brought it to Batman's attention back in Febuary, Watchtower had picked up the enemy's Boom Tube surges two other times. Once in Central City where Conner had stayed with Kid Flash and his family during those three days between the fiasco at Cadmus and the official formation of the Young Justice Team and then the second was today, now, in the Distric of Colombia.

He followed the sound to the construction site that had once been the front for Cadmus Labs. The real Cadmus was still underground, his X-ray vision confirmed that. He could only see the upper most levels, but the signal didn't seem to be coming from the lab anyway, just near it. Kal readjusted his hearing. Bruce had said he was focusing to much on the familiar and drawing the wrong conclusions. He needed to follow the sound all the way to its source, not part of the way and then pause to investigate tangent that had once been relevant but was no longer so. In Rhode Island he'd gone to Mount Justice where Conner had lived instead of continuing to follow the sound and now here in DC he stopped at Cadmus where Conner had been created rather than following the sound.

Kal turned from the innocent looking construction site and redirected his attention back to the dishonest cord. It wasn't at Cadmus, but it was near Cadmus. Was the enemy broadcasting their signal specifically in places they knew Conner had inhabited?

That was a question for the Batman.

Kal-El never got to actually catch the culprits. As with the time in Happy Harbor and in Central the enemy had cut the signal and escaped through their Boom Tube before he could get close enough to nab them. But Kal did use his telescopic vision to get one good look at them.

It was a group of three. Two wore alien uniforms and acted as nothing more that grunt-troops, taking orders from the third. The third was large, heavy-set but not 'fat'. The being's considerable bulk looked to be muscle, but it wasn't exactly a 'human' muscle configuration. Humanoid, yes; human, no. Between the off body-type, alien dress, deep lines in their face and their while shock of thick white hair, there was something very uncanny-valley about them. Whoever or whatever they were, it was clear that they were not from Earth.

…

Metropolis

March 7 – 11:45

…And then Kal heard the dissonant melody in Metropolis. Not from Metropolis, it wasn't coming from out of state as it had before and he just happened to hear it because he had super-hearing. No. It was coming from somewhere here, someone in his own town!

Kal-El was determined to catch the fiends this time. He blocked out everything but that one unpleasant noise. A discordant melody that offended his ears and grated on his nerves. There was such a thing as tunnel vision, well, he discovered something akin to 'tunnel hearing' and he followed it to a back-ally in Suicide Slums.

There was the boss with the wild white hair, the two grunt-troops and what looked like some version of a pary-DJ sound system, only… different. Kal landed directly on top of the machine, smashing it on contact. The dissonant melody was silenced.

He faced the boss but she (on closer inspection he decided the alien was female) was already opening a Boom Tube for herself to escape through. Kal moved to intercept her but the two henchmen pounced him upon.

"That's it boys." Said the boss. "Protect your dear old Granny."

She disappeared through the Tube.

One of the grunts gave him a sucker-punch to the gut and Kal was surprised to learn that these aliens almost as hard as he could. The three of them tumbled through Suicide Slum for some time, drawing the attention of the denizens of the slum and after buildings started getting smashed, the rest of the city as well.

The fight finally ended when Superman had been hit hard enough to daze him, giving the pair time enough to open a Boom Tube of their own and escape.

…And Superman was left with no more information on who was controlling Conner than he had started with that day.


	5. Taken

Watchtower

March 7 – (irrelevant)

"Go home, Clark!"

Batman had just begun his shift on Watchtower when the Superman materialized on the teleportation pad on the main bridge. The red and blue Boy Scout in a show of uncharacteristic hysterics had then launched into something that might have been an explanation had he spoken slower, didn't shout quite as much and kept to one language instead of constantly switching between English and Kryptonian.

Of course, Watchtower had detected the now very familiar and unmistakable energy surge in Metropolis that indicated a Boom Tube. It wasn't hard for the Dark Knight to determine that Superman had tangled with Conner's puppet masters. Obvious by his behavior, the fight had not gone in the Boy Scout's favor and he had not managed to subdue or capture the enemy. Distraught over his defeat and the continued threat to Conner, his 'son', Clark had come to the one person he had an almost religious belief could fix everything –the Batman.

Clark didn't seem to realize that the World's Greatest Detective worked better without a panic-stricken parent in the room.

"You've brought me some new information. That's good." The Batman was saying. "But I can't work with you hovering over me."

"What new information?" The Superman groaned. "We don't know anything more than we did before!"

"We know that they're not from Earth." Bruce began listing off. "We know they have henchmen who are almost as strong as you when you're off your guard and we know that the boss calls herself 'Granny'."

The Superman gave a snort of derision. "That's not a name."

"Neither is 'Superman'." Bruce shot back, not the least bit perturbed. Then he sighed. "Go home, Clark. I promise I'll figure out who's controlling Conner and why, but you can't help right now."

"And why not!"

"You're hysterical." Was the Batman's flat and simple answer. "You aren't thinking strait and need to calm down. Go back to your Fortress, hug your boy, have a glass of milk… whatever, just get yourself under control."

He put a comforting hand on the Man of Steel's shoulder and steered him to the zetta-pad. With a nod to Hawkman, whom had remained tactfully silent during the bout of super-hysterics, and took a step back as the zetta-beam energized, sending the Superman back to the Hall of Justice in Washington.

After he was gone Karter ventured hesitantly, "Was that, um, was that a different Superman than the one who couldn't stand the boy a couple months ago?"

"Sometimes I think so." Batman agreed. "His view of the Superboy did pull a rather quick one-eighty."

…

Fortress of Solitude

March 7 – 3:05 pm

If Conner thought it was weird that Kal-El had come home early then he thought it was down right bizarre when the first thing the man did upon seeing him was to pull him into firm bear-hug.

"Um, Kal…?" The boy ventured with hesitant confusion.

This was so far beyond what he'd come to expect from the man. He'd come a long way from ignoring and avoiding him, to teaching him Kryptonese and football, but Conner never would have imagined in a million years that the man would go so far as to ever hug him. In all honesty, it felt a little weird. Like, uncomfortable weird.

"I think its great that you're chill enough to hug me now, but, um…" The boy began. "But I'd much rather have that kryptonian name you promised me last month instead."

…  
Fortress of Solitude

March 10 – 6:00 am

"So, what time will the others be coming over later today?" Conner asked as Kal was just on his way out for the day.

"Oh, sorry I forgot to tell you, Batman has a mission for them." The Superman answered. "They probably won't be over this weekend."

…

Fortress of Solitude

March 18 – 10:30

As Kal had predicted, Conner didn't see his Team at all that weekend. M'gann did stop by in the middle of the week on Wednesday after school and ended up spending the night (much to Kal-El's dismay). It wasn't until Sunday night of the following weekend when his Team came over, exhausted after not one but two missions. They had decided to screw school and invited themselves over to the Fortress, bringing pizza and soda and setting their tent up in the living room as per-usual.

He asked them about their missions and what everyone was doing while he was cooped up here at the Fortress. They told him about adventures with their mentors, gossip from within the League, and amusing anecdotes from school.

Kal hung back from the group, giving the kids their space as he usually tried to do when they were over. He sat in his favorite chair, an old-school typewriter in his lap, attempting to do some actual work for his day job since Bruce had decided he was to 'emotionally involved' to help with the investigation of what had been dubbed the 'Granny Case'. He listened to the kids as they giggled at the expense of their peers (as children tended to do), and just generally enjoyed themselves.

…And then Kid Flash said with a sigh, "Man, it sure is great to be able to kick back like this." There was the unmistakable sound of a body flopping down on a pillow. "Bats has got us so busy chasing your spy-masters, I'm starting to feel a little run-down. No pun intended."

Kal was on his feet and pulling the tent aside before Conner blinked, "My what?"

"Okay, bedtime!" Kal barked in an attempt to cut off any further slips. Jeez, what was it about the Flashes and taking such a casual and 'laxed approach to sensitive information?

Five pairs of eyes looked up at him startled, Conner stayed focused on Wally. "KF, what do you mean?"

The Flash's nephew might have been loose lipped a few seconds ago, but he was fast on the up-take and realized his mistake quickly, although it was still all to late. He slapped Conner on the shoulder and said with forced casualness, "No big deal, though. Anyway, Uncle Supes is right, we should be getting to bed."

He stood and began putting the living room back together. The rest of the Team was quick to follow, all standing and picking up pillows and couch cushions, righting chairs, folding the sheet they used as their 'tent' and retrieving Robin's bat-rope with which they suspended it. All the while Conner stood unmoving and glared at them all. Rationally speaking, he understood why they would keep it from him. He was the mole and so it was just plain stupid to share any sensitive information with him; that was doubly true of information about whomever was controlling him. But Conner was not a very rational person by nature, being ruled more by emotion rather than logic and so couldn't help but feel spurned.

Before he knew it, he was standing in the middle of an empty room, his Team having fled to their staterooms aboard the Titanic. Kal came up beside him and offered the boy a glass of juice.

"Here." Said the Superman.

Conner looked at it, suddenly feeling like he was back on Watchtower shortly after first learning that he was the mole. "I don't need a sedative." He growled. "I just want to know what's going on…"

Kal-El sighed and sank down to sit on the couch, motioning for Conner to follow suit. The boy reluctantly sat next to his genetic-parent, eyeing the glass of apple juice laced with sedative the man still held as if it might leap out of his hand and bite him. Kal sighed a second time and placed the glass down on the coffee table.

"You reacted badly when you first learned you were the mole." He said. "We didn't want to risk a repeat of that, so everyone's been trying to insulate you from the investigation."

Once again, rationally Conner understood that. But that didn't prevent him from feeling like he'd been lied to; this did concern him directly after all. "I told you I'd never ask you to do that again." He reminded his genetic-parent. "But I think I have a right to know what the hell is going on outside these walls, especially when it's about me."

"If I agree to level with you, you have to agree to take the relaxant if I don't like the way you take the news." He pushed the glass of juice closer to Conner.

The boy glared at it with distaste before looking back up at Kal and nodding ever so slightly.

Kal-El took a deep breath. "Recently, the signal used to control you has been cropping up more and more in direct broadcasts, its not imbedded anymore." He explained. "So far, it's only occurred in places that we know you've stayed, this leads us to believe that they're trying to find you."

Conner wasn't sure what exactly he had expected. He didn't know what information he had passed on or who he'd passed it to while he was under their control. There was no reason to assume that he had fulfilled all of their objectives, it made sense that they would be looking for him. Maybe to continue to use him, maybe to glean whatever else they could from him before cutting him loose now that he'd been compromised. He hadn't had a blackout or memory laps since going to Watchtower or coming here to the Fortress but that could just be that they hadn't tried broadcasting anywhere near here yet. What if they finally figured out where he was and got to him?

Would he give away how to enter Kal-El's Fortress? Kal had told his Team how to come and go without having to muck about with his giant key gimmick and they had in turn told him. He could easily pass that information on to whoever was controlling him. Or, what if they ordered him to neutralize Kal? It was what he had been created to do –kill Superman. But he'd started to like the man allot since coming here…

Before he had just idolized him as what he wanted to be like, a lofty unobtainable goal, his shining example of what heroism looked like. That view had dulled slightly as the man constantly rejected him. But since coming to live in his Fortress with him, Conner had grown to view the Superman, not as an idol to be placed on a pedestal, but rather a friend. Kal-El's name had been added to his list of people he'd rather die than betray. If his masters were looking for him… if they found him… if they turned him against Kal…

Conner reached for his sedative-laced juice and took one large swallow.

"I shouldn't have told you." Kal said. "Bats warned me not to worry you."

The boy continued to sip his juice.

"Conner, are you going to be okay?"

He didn't know how to answer, so he said nothing. Kal-El interpreted the boy's silence as dejection and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand around the boy's shoulders, pulling him closer to himself. It wasn't quite a hug, but it was close enough.

"I don't want them to find me." Conner said at last. He took another sip of his sedative-laced juice, draining the last from the cup, and relaxed against his genetic-parent's side. Maybe it was a sign of how much more comfortable with the man he was becoming or maybe it was the sedative taking affect, but this didn't feel quite as awkward as their first hug almost two weeks ago.

"I don't want them to find you either." Kal said.

"I don't want to betray… my friends," He was starting to feel a little fuddled. It sure didn't take long for the kryptonian cocktail to take affect. "…or you. Mm, even if you still haven't given me… that name you promised…"

"I know you don't want to hurt anyone."

Conner began to say something else but his speech was so slurred that it was impossible to decipher. His head flopped down on Kal's shoulder –asleep. Kal-El shifted slightly, intending to stand and carry the boy to his room, but Wolf jumped up onto the couch and laid across the boy's lap, effectively pinning him down. Kal sighed and relaxed back into to the cushions.

"So, you're the culprit who's been leaving white fur all over the furniture."

The cobra-venom enhanced predator looked up at the Man of Steel innocently. Then Krypto hopped up on his other side and placed his head in Kal's lap.

"And you're picking up bad habits." He said by way of reprimanding his own dog. Krypto, like Wolf, also looked innocent and licked Kal's hand in an attempt to placate his master.

The Man of Steel sighed and resigned himself to having to sit there for a long time. He cast his eyes sideways at the boy whose head rested on his shoulder. He had promised Conner a kryptonian name, it had been his own suggestion, the boy had not asked and yet it had been almost two month and he still hadn't decided on a suitable one yet.

The idea of naming him after one of his ancestors had been thrown out rather early on; so had the idea of giving him the kind of name a person grows into like 'Zrig' (wisdom) or Dihviao (greatness), he felt they had the same problem as naming him after an ancestor, that of placing unneeded expectations on the boy. He had then decided on a descriptive name, something that applied to the boy, but he didn't want to call him 'weapon', or 'copy' (there was no word for 'clone' in Kryptonese), or anything along those lines and he figured Conner wouldn't appreciate any of those either.

He brushed the spit curl of hair identical to his own out of the boy's face and reflected on how suddenly and inexplicably the boy had fallen into his life. That night in July he had been so socked to learn he had been cloned, he hadn't been able to see the boy for the gift that he truly was. Bruce had put so much pressure on him to claim the boy as his son that it ended up having the except opposite effect and only pushed Kal farther from him. But, loath though he was to admit it, Bruce was right. Conner was his son and the boy needed his father.

Conner had called himself a 'living weapon', he said he had been created to kill and replace the Superman. When he first appeared, Kal had been wary and suspicious of the boy (after the initial shock had worn off), he viewed the boy as a possible threat, almost as a 'curse' rather than the blessing he was.

A blessing in disguise, an unexpected gift.

'Blessing in disguise'… 'maaltes konvh'… 'blessing'… 'konvh'… Konvh-El? No.

'Unexpected gift'… 'enikhs kon'… 'gift'… 'kon'… Kon-El? Hm, that didn't sound to bad.

"Kon-El." He said allowed, testing the name on his tongue. It felt pretty good, too, rolling off the tongue with ease. It was short and easy to remember and similar enough to his Earthling name to not make him feel strange when called it.

"You're name is Kon-El." He told the sleeping boy, well aware that he wouldn't register it. "Kon of the House of El."

…

Fortress of Solitude

March 19 – 5:00 am

As the Team had said 'screw school' that Monday, so too did Kal-El decide 'screw work'. He'd be damned if he was going to leave Conner alone after last night. True, he wouldn't be alone; his entire Team was still here with him, but after the Kid Flash's slip last night Kal thought that perhaps an adult's supervision was also needed.

Conner blinked at him, sitting at the kitchen table still in his pajamas and attempting not to incinerate the Daily Planet's crossword puzzle in frustration. One of these days he was going to sit down and have a word with Brent about these clues. They made no sense!

"You're not wearing your uniform."

"Nope." Kal sipped a cup of hot chocolate.

"You're not going to Metropolis today?"

"Nope."

"Because of me?"

Kal-El did not respond, but that was answer enough for Conner. He pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and poked listlessly at the plate of food that was placed in front of him by one of the Fortress' robots.

"Cheer up." Kal said, tossing his crossword aside and turning his chair to face the boy. "You're perfectly safe here. Even if the enemy knew where you were, they wouldn't be able to get to you."

"I guess." He took a bite of toast, chewed, swallowed and repeated the process with the eggs and bacon. When Conner had taken at least one bite from every item on his plate he set it on the floor for Wolf and Krypto to share (or fight over, it was sometimes hard to tell). Kal glared at the action, Ma would not approve. But at least the boy wasn't hand-feeding them strait from the table. That was something right?

"Well, if that's not enough to get you to quit being moppey, maybe this will." He grinned at the boy. "Last night, after you fell asleep, I finally decided on your name."

His mood did brighten at that. Not just brighten, the boy's whole face lit-up as if the trouble he'd been worried about only moments before didn't exist and all was right with the world and him in it. And then Kal saw the slightest hint of apprehension set in as the boy asked, "What… what is it?"

"Kon." He answered simply. "Kon-El."

The boy frowned, but Kal-El couldn't decide if it was from disappointment or confusion, or any combination there of.

"You don't like it?"

"No, its fine." Kon-El assured him. "'Kon' sounds like 'Con', which is the first syllable in my civilian name so I can see why you chose it. Its just… it took you a really long time to figure that out. I had thought you were taking so long because you wanted it to mean something, or whatever."

"It does mean something."

"I meant within the context of the name." The boy clarified. "I know that 'kon' is the Kryptonese word for 'gift'."

Kal flashed him a deliberate smile.

Kon raised an eyebrow.

Kal's smile morphed into a grin that was accompanied by the slightest of nods.

Kon blinked. "I don't understand."

…

Fortress of Solitude

March 19 – 9:45

Kon-El took the four hours between his conversation with Kal-El and when the rest of his team awake and began trickling into the kitchen to consider his new name and his genetic-parent's reasons behind it.

Okay, so he had chosen it for its meaning, not because it also just so happened to be the first syllable as his civilian name, that could mean one of two things. Option one, Kal could be meaning to imply that he, Conner, was a 'gift' of one sort or another (pff, not likely, at all!). Or, option two, Kal could have meant the name to be a gift to Conner, like a peace offering or an apology for his negligence and behavior prior to being given custody of him by Batman (highly likely). It wasn't exactly the most appealing of reasons for his name, but it was a name, it was kryptonian and Superman had given it to him. Conner, ney, Kon-El resolved to be content with it.

Besides, Kal didn't have to give him the surename of 'El' along with it. Kon hadn't asked to be accepted into the House of El, and when the offer of a kryptonian name had been made he had no expectations of such. He was a clone, not an illegitimate relation; creatures of his sort didn't have families. Of course, now that he was an El he supposed not only did he have a family (a family of two) but also a family history. A rather long and moderately epic family history, too.

He didn't share even half of these reflections with his Team, however. It really wasn't their business; he might confide it in M'gann later when they found the time to be alone. When the rest of his Team had assembled in the kitchen (in varying degrees of wakefulness) he simply announced, "Hey guys, guess what! I have a name!"

They had all frowned at him in confusion, M'gann especially. She had been the one to give him his civilian Earthling name. Kon hadn't considered that preferring his new kryptonian name over the one she gave him might be misconstrued as a snub. They would have to talk about that next time they were alone too.

"Uh, Supey, you already have a name." Wally reminded him.

"I meant a kryptonian name. Its Kon, Kon-El."

…

Fortress of Solitude

March 19 – 11:30 am

Kal paused when he entered the living area and found Robin going threw the audiocrystals he'd left out after Conner's episode. "What're you doing?"

"Which crystal was the one that gave Conner his headache?" Dick asked by way of explanation. "I can't tell one from another, they all look the same to me."

Kal-El crossed the room to stand in front of the boy and his kryptonian stereo-system. It wasn't hard to guess that Bruce had asked him to grab the music crystal and bring it back to the Batcave to be examined by the World's Greatest Detective (though, Kal wasn't sure what the Batman expected to learn considering that its alien technology wasn't compatible with anything he had in his cave). Still, there was no harm in letting Bruce try.

He picked out the symphony they'd been listening to when Kon-El had gone into spasms and handed it to Dick. "Here."

…

Arctic Circle

March 19 – 2:06 pm

The kids were having a snowball fight outside the Fortress, and by 'snowball fight' we mean 'ground shaking free for all and all out war, take no prisoners'.

Kal threw a hand up to shield his eyes from a wave, yes, a literal wave, of ice and snow that had been kicked up by Kaldur. His intended target had been Wally, but the Kid Flash was to fast for him and was already several meters away and retaliating with a barrage of super-fast snowy projectiles of his own by the time the wave broke. Kal decided it might be best to climb to a higher altitude to watch the children. He was there to supervise, not become a casualty.

They didn't seem to be split into any sort of recognizable 'teams', it was every man (or woman) for themselves. Kaldur went after Wally, who went after Kaldur, but when one of Wally's speed-force snowballs hit M'gann, it was Kon-El and M'gann against Kaldur and Wally. Then one of Kon's attacks went wide and scathed the martian girl slightly, then it was Wally, Kaldur and M'gann against Kon. Amidst the battle, Kid Flash made a comment about girls that M'gann took offense to and then it was M'gann and Artemis against Wally, while Kon and Kaldur teamed up to find and neutralize Robin (whom had taken to using a hit-and-fade maneuver popularized during the American Revolution).

Watching it all, Kal-El couldn't help but smile at the fun the kids were having. Kon was in such high spirits, much happier than one would have expected after learning that the enemy was still out there and looking for him. Kal knew he probably shouldn't be letting him outside with such a real and present danger looming, but he also couldn't keep Kon-El locked up inside the Fortress all the time. The boy needed fresh air and real sunlight.

Besides, he was here watching. It was fine for Kon to be outside so long as the Superman was with him, right?

…

Metropolis

March 21 – 10:15 am

Much as he might have wanted to, Kal-El could not spend his every waking moment at the Fortress hovering over Kon. He did have to leave at some point, if not for JLA missions then at least to pay the rent on Clark Kent's apartment and drop off an article for the Planet in order to keep his job. Also, while he might grow a good majority of his food in his gardens at the Fortress, it might be in his best interest to do a bit of grocery shopping, especially since Kid Flash visited so often and had the propensity to eat everything in sight.

It was as he was in the cereal and snacks isle, staring helplessly at all the over-bright snackies and reading the ingredients to try and figure out what differentiated them from one another, when his JLA comm. buzzed. Kal shifted his shopping basket to his other hand in order to reach up and tap his ear-bud. Glancing around himself quickly to make sure no one was looking at him, he said in a voice so low no human ear could detect it, "This is Superman. Go ahead."

"Where are you?" John Stewart's voice asked.

"Metropolis. Why?"

"You need to get back to your Fortress now!" The Lantern said with the kind of urgency that managed to sound both quiet and tempered but also significantly critical, the kind of command that was indicative of a military training. "Watchtower just detected a Boom Tube energy surge near Iqaluit on the Baffin Island in Canada. That is close to your base, isn't it?"

Kal had already abandoned his basket and was airborne before the word 'Tube'.

"Close enough." He growled as the eastern seaboard rushed by beneath him.

…

Arctic Circle

March 21 – 10:20 am

It was as Kal was nearing and then passing over Inukjuak that he started to hear the dissonant melody, faint in the distance ahead at first but growing in volume as he zoomed over the Hudson Strait. The Superman didn't bother looking for its source, Stewart had said it was near Iqaluit, but Kal wasn't concerned with stopping the melody or capturing 'Granny' at the moment. His one singular thought was Kon –getting to Kon-El before the enemy got their hands on him.

At least Kon didn't go outside when he wasn't home. The dissonant cord wouldn't penetrate the thick walls of his hollowed out mountain Fortress. So long as Kon-El was inside his sleeper-program wouldn't activate. So long as Kon-El was inside he'd be safe. So long as Kon-El was inside…

Kal-El dropped out of the sky outside his Fortress where he saw Kon's pet Wolf laying unconscious, his white furry form almost lost in the ivory-gray snow. He looked around for any sign of Krypto but found his own Superdog to be in absence. Kal didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, since becoming acquainted with one another Wolf and Krypto had been near inseparable pack-mates.

Kal knelt beside the domesticated predator; he was still alive and looked, for the most part, to be uninjured –just out cold. The Superman lifted the cobra-venom enhanced wolf into his arms and carried him into the Fortress, forgoing his inefficient giant key gimmick and instead entering through the second entrance on the opposite side of the mountain, the entrance that had come to be called the 'Guest Entrance'. He handed the animal off to one of the robots and demanded if they knew where Kon-El was.

When they told him the Superboy had been outside with the dogs, a sharp stone of chilly dread sank into his stomach. With a string of kryptonian curses that would have made even Mongul blush, Kal was once again sailing through the air, his hearing jacked up to its most sensitive, honing in on the dissonant melody –searching for its source and his wayward son.

Green Lantern had said they were close to Iqaluit and he had been right. Kal-El found them set-up along an uninhabited bank of Lake Sylvia-Grinnell –and with them was Kon-El.

Krypto was there, too. The Superdog's jaw had a firm hold of the boy's boot and was trying to pull him away from the Granny. It look the Superman only less than a second to register all of this and it took him less than a second more to rush forward into he fray.

He grabbed the boy by the shoulders and spun him around to see that his face sported that same expression of odd-determination it had back at the Cave so many months ago. He didn't overtly look like he was under mind-control. Most of the mind-control victims Superman had encountered in the past would stare off blanking into the distance, or had empty almost lifeless eyes. That was not the case with Kon-El, he didn't look 'lifeless' just 'willess'.

"Superboy," he said, "snap out of it! Kon-El… Conner!"

The boy did not respond and before the Superman could say or do more he was set upon by two henchmen of the same type as those he'd fought before in Metropolis. Green uniformed with gold-colored armor, large bug-like eyes and mouths full of sharp serrated teeth. They pulled Kal away from the boy and he watched as Kon turned back to Granny whom opened a Boom Tube for them.

"No!" Kal cried and did a slight twist and roll of his shoulder to throw one of the villains that held him –a strait-line judo toss (Bruce would be proud of him). One arm now free, Superman landed a punch with hammer-to-anvil like force to the other's face, causing the creature to stagger and freeing his other arm.

Superman rushed to grab Kon-El again before he could disappear into the time-space wormhole. The two henchmen recovered quickly and as Kal rushed for Conner, they rushed for him. But Krypto acted as back-up and shot one in the throat with his heat-vision while sinking his teeth into the other's wrist. Superman was almost to Kon-El. The back of the boy's black muscle-shirt was just a hair's breadth from his grasp when the Granny backhanded him across the face.

He hadn't expected that. So, super-human strength was one of the overly masculine woman's abilities.

Kal-El was dazed for only a moment, but that moment was all it took for Kon to disappear through the Tube.

"No!"

"Oh, I'm sorry he couldn't stay to play." The old woman mocked. "But I'm sure my little Parademons can keep you company."

And with that, the alien woman likewise disappeared through the dimensional portal, the Tube closing behind her.

Kal-El stared at the spot where it had been, as if glaring at it could somehow reopen the wormhole and bring his son back. Then he was hit in the back by one of the henchmen –'Parademons' she'd called them- thrown by Krypto, and Superman turned to the creatures, his eyes ablaze with barely contained fury and heat. All his anger and distress was focused on the two creatures. When last they he had tangled with their like, he had been taken by surprise having never encountered them before. But now he knew their strength and their limits. They battled for hours, turning the almost pristine landscape around Lake Sylvia-Grinnell into a torn and charred waste. Everything had been a blur to him, mostly. The world colored by the red tint of his rage, or maybe it was his heat-vision.

When the creatures were subdued, not dead, furious as he was the Superman still could not bring himself to kill another living thing, but when the pair had been subdued Kal-El found himself panting almost breathless amid a waste of ice and dirt heaped up over broken trees and torn lichen.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

Superman wheeled around, his eyes again blazing, but paused and checked himself before the heat of his vision could blast the Green Lantern that now stood before him.

"Whoa there!" John Stewart held up his hands in surrender.

"John." Kal registered. "Sorry."

Behind the Lantern a sleek black and vaguely bat-shaped plane landed on the unnaturally level filed of dirt and ice. Batman climbed out and joined the Superman and Green Lantern. He did not 'rush', having already taken in all that there was to see of the scene and determining that there was no longer any present danger, the Dark Knight would never be so undignified as to 'run' merely to ask a simple question. But his steps were still very hurried.

"What happened?" Demanded the Batman.

"They took him!" Kal-El bit out. His words bitter with anxious anger. "I was here. I was right here! He was just within my reach but I couldn't reach him and now he's gone. Kon-El's gone!"


	6. April Fools

Hall of Justice

April 1 – 9:45 am

Thick gray clouds hung lazily in the air over the Hall of Justice, the media-front for the Justice League of America. They dimmed the morning sun and cast a dull gloom over everything. But in spite of the bleak weather, tourists still came to see the impressive building, to take pictures with the massive statues of the founding seven, or to peek through the skylight into the public viewing lounge. There was not usually much to see in the public lounge as many of the League tended to avoid that part of the Hall, except to simply pass through on their way to the zetta-beam that would take them to Watchtower.

Today, however, when our curious tourists peer through the skylight, they see not an empty room, but rather a group of impatient and irritable looking teenagers all in garish costumes. Some of them are recognized as the sidekicks of the Flash, Aquaman and the Batman. Others are not so familiar, the blond girl in green with the quiver of arrows leaning against her chair must be Green Arrow's new sidekick since Speedy had turned eighteen and gone solo, but they had heard nothing about her on the news. The other girl was green like the Martian Manhunter and she wore his red X over her chest, but her shirt was white not black and she sported a thick mane of dark red hair on her head. They didn't know martians had hair.

Unfortunately for our tourists they can only see these young heroes. They cannot hear their conversations, nor do they know why they have been gathered here at the Hall. Many assume that it is a second attempt at inducting them (or a first attempt in the case of the girls) into the League, a less televised attempt than the first, assuming that if one of them throws another hissy-fit as Speedy had, the League would want to keep it quiet.

This was not the case.

Our wide-eyed tourist could not possibly know that back in January of this year one of the JLA's computers had been hacked by one whom they had thought was their own, nor that said person had passed on access codes that would allow an illusive enemy into their bases, or that the mole had been a dear friend to the five young heroes they now peeked in on and that they grieved his loss.

No. All they saw were five kids in garish costumes.

In actuality, the Team had been summoned to the Hall to be re-scanned into the computer's mass-recognition program and be assigned a new Justice League call sign. Since Batman had learned that Conner had passed on JLA access codes to the enemy everyone in the League had been re-scanned and assigned a new call sign. They had gone in order of priority with the founding seven being the first and then the rest of the grown-ups, not in order of when they joined, but rather in order of how vital to the League their skills were. (A number of egos had been bruised by this, but we're not gonna name names.) Now it was the kids' turn.

Robin was called first. No one made any comment about Kaldur being Team leader and therefore should have been a higher priority than Batman's little bird. They weren't really in the mood to squabble over egos like the adults pretended not to do. And besides, after the computer was done with Rob, Aqualad was the very next to be called anyway.

Kid Flash went next, then Miss Martian, and finally Artemis was last.

When it was all done they returned to their moping.

"It's been two weeks." Arty said. She pulled one knee up to her chest, draping her arms around it. Two weeks since Conner had disappeared.

"Has Bats said anything?" Wally asked.

All eyes turned to Robin.

"No. Its like Supey just disappeared into thin air." The Boy Wonder did not mention that the Batman had spent more of the past two weeks trying to console Uncle Supes than trying to unravel the puzzle of the mysterious 'Granny' and what she could want Conner for at this point. She couldn't use him as a spy, that was for sure. They hadn't gotten much from those two creatures –Parademons- Clark had captured. Just the word 'darksied', whatever that was.

…

Fortress of Solitude

April 1 – 10:00 am

Bruce reclined in a second chair that Clark had brought into his control room for the Dark Knight. He leaned back and propped his feet up on the console, careful not to touch any of the crystal-like buttons and switches there, lest he accidentally hit some sort of self-destruct and kill them both (well, kill himself for sure, there was some question as to Clark). He dug a spoon into a jar of peanut butter and suppressed the urge to moan when he placed the chunky nutty-cream in his mouth. Alfred never let him eat peanut butter strait out of the jar. He said it wasn't appropriate for a gentleman. The congenial old butler didn't seem to understand that it tasted better out of the jar.

Clark sat beside him, hands blurring over the crystal consol of his equipment, attempting to analyze the data from all the times Watchtower had detected Boom Tubes going as far back as the Team's mission to Bialya back in September. Bruce didn't know what he expected to find. The data had already been gone over by both Watchtower's main computer as well as the Dark Knight in his own cave. But then again, those were both looking at the data from an Earthling's perspective. Maybe Clark's kryptonian tech could offer a different view? The World's Greatest Detective gave a mental shrug. It gave the Superman something to do, something to take his mind at least somewhat off his son's abduction.

Wolf, the cobra-venom enhanced predator that Conner had adopted laid behind Clark's chair. The animal had seemed to slip into a kind of doggie-depression since the Superboy had disappeared. The wolf slept most of the day, rarely left Superman's side and when he could not be in the same room as the man (such as when Clark used the bathroom) he would sit outside the door and whine. Bruce was pretty good at psychology and if the wolf had been a human he would have diagnosed it with an abandonment complex on top of the depression.

The control room door slid open and Krypto entered carrying a very chewed-up and torn looking knotted rag that appeared to be made from the same material as Clark's Superman uniform. The Superdog offered the toy to Wolf whom lifted his head, sniffed, sighed, then lowered his head back down. Krypto pawed at him and wagged his tail. Wolf rolled onto his side, effectively turning his back to the alien dog. The Superdog made a sound that wasn't quite a growl before picking his toy back up and holding it out for Clark, once again giving his tail a hopeful little wag.

"Not now, boy." The Superman didn't even glance at his dog as he said this.

Disappointed Krypto glanced at Bruce, paused, then trotted out of the control room without even bothering to coax the Dark Knight into playing. He gave a muffled "Arf." As if to say, 'You people suck!'

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, reclined at the bridge's main consol, his hands behind his head, his feet thrown lazily over the keyboard. He whistled a tuneless song as the Earth drifted lazily by the expansive cathedral windows to his right and the infinite blackness of space loomed to his left. It was one of those quiet Watch shifts where nothing of great interest ever seemed to happen. The most excitement he'd seen all day was when an earthquake had shook the Philippines and he'd had to dispatch Captain Atom, one of the Lanterns (Hal Jordan) and Aquaman to help the locals.

Yes, that had been the highpoint of his day (night?, it was hard to tell in space).

Wonder Woman came up beside him, a cup of coffee in one hand and one of the Percy Jackson books in the other. "Put your feet down." She said. "You know you're not supposed to do that."

Yeah, that was why everyone did it, even Superman, the obnoxiously strait-laced and rule-biting Boy Scout. Still, why argue with one hundred and thirty pounds of Amazon muscle. Oliver obediently lowered his green-booted feet from the consol. "Its just so boring up here."

"Well, then you're in luck." The Amazon princess set down her coffee and book. "I'm reliving you from manning the consol. Go find something not-boring to do."

Ollie was up and out of the chair before she'd even finished speaking. He made a B-line for the corridor that lead to the living quarters and his X-box. Fable 3, here he comes! …Or maybe he should call Dinah and see if she wanted to go out (or stay in) after his Watch duty was over? Though he would never admit it out loud, their relationship had improved a great deal after Roy had moved out. It was amazing how much easier it was to cultivate a romantic connection without a moody and abrasive teenager underfoot.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the Tower's computer announcing someone coming through the zetta-teleporter. Normally, the Green Arrow would think that was slightly odd, as he still had another day on his shift and Diana two days on hers, so it couldn't be their replacements beaming in. But since the disappearance of Superboy, Superman had started to make a habit of beaming up to the Tower unannounced to raid the computers' backlogs for data or discuss something with the Batman when he was aboard. It was actually a little annoying. The Green Arrow shrugged, not his problem, Diana was the one on main console duty now. Let her deal with him.

Oliver failed to register that the computer didn't actually announce who had beamed aboard the Watchtower.

He was almost to his room when the unmistakable sounds of an Amazonian battle cry reached his ears. Arrow turned back just in time to see Wonder Woman be thrown across his field of vision and he heard the distinct CR-THUNK of her bikini-clad body impacting a wall. Within a moment Oliver had dashed into his quarters, grabbed his quiver and bow and then was sprinting back to the bridge to see what the hell was going on!

He froze when he saw them.

At least a dozen (and counting as more began to materialize) of the same two creatures Bats and GL had brought back from the Arctic the day Superboy had been taken. Green skinned (or were those suits?) with gold-colored armor plating, large bug-like eyes and wide slobbering mouths with rows upon rows of sharp razor teeth like a shark's. Parademons!

Oliver swallowed a lump in his throat. He would never complain about Watch duty being boring again.

…

Mt. Justice

April – 11:11 am

The loud pop-pop-pop of AK-47s and the rat-ta-ta-ta-tat of semi-automatics filled the Cave's common area as Artemis and Robin played a bit of co-op on the latest Call of Duty game. The Boy Wonder rarely ever got to play shooter-games, the Batman hated guns and that contempt extended to computer generated guns too. It was the sound that bothered him.

…And it was the sound right now that was bothering M'gann (though, for much less post-traumatic reasons). It grated on her nerves as she kneaded chocolate chips into cookie dough, in much the same way nails on a chalk-board grated on the hearing of a normal human. She was about to ask them to turn the volume down when the Cave's computer announced someone arriving via the zetta-tubes.

"Who's that?" Wally used the momentary distraction to steal some cookie dough from the bowl.

"I find it odd the computer did not tell us who's arrived." Kaldur entered the kitchen and slapped M'gann's cookie dough out of the speedster's hand.

"New system's probably just buggy." The Kid Flash gave the atlantian a dirty look at having his attempts to steal food thwarted.

"It might be Batman with a mission." M'gann suggested, moving the bowl of cookie dough out of Wally's reach. She covered it with tin-foil and placed it in the refrigerator. If the Dark Knight had a mission for them then she wasn't going to get around to baking any time soon. She turned the oven she'd been pre-heating off and glanced towards the couch where Robin turned off the game so as not to offend his mentor with the sound of gun-fire.

The Team made their way to the zetta-hangar. But it wasn't Batman who was waiting for them.

Five pairs of eyes went wide, gaping at the veritable army of alien creatures that was still zetta'ing into the base. The same alien monsters that had been there when the 'Granny' had taken Conner. What had Uncle Supes called them? 'Herademons'? 'Parademons?' something like that…

"Scatter!" Robin shouted. Leaping into the air, the Boy Wonder pulled three miniaturized smoke-bombs from his belt to cover his and his Team's escape. A second letter, he'd pulled his grappling gun from a different pocket and was swinging over the thong of monster (which he then, unfortunately, learned could also fly) towards the nearest computer access terminal.

"Not this again…" Artemis' groan sounded vexed, but beneath it was a deeper level of terror at having the Cave be attacked by hostile enemies a second time. They all had nearly died when the Reds had infiltrated the base, herself included, and the fem fatal archer was none to keen on experiencing a repeat but with different bad-guys.

Her bow was in her hands the moment Robin's smoke-bombs hit the floor, one of her emerald fletched projectiles cutting through the haze that now obscured them to hit one of the monsters square in the eye. It penetrated his socket, but didn't seem to do much more than that. It certainly didn't deter the creature from rushing the Team, or even slowing it down for that matter.

The Parademons swarmed.

"Robin, shut down the zetta-tubes!" Kaldur shouted over the fray (as if it needed saying). His water-scimitars in hand, the Aqualad began cutting a path for himself to get to the terminal the Wonder Boy now crouched over, his wrist computer in hand, the Parademons bearing downwards.

Kid Flash was already there. Using the momentum from his super-speed sprint to give force to the hard shove he gave the creature closest to the little bird. The monster stumbled sideways into one of its brethren and the Kid Flash took a step back massaging his shoulder.

"It's like hitting a brick wall." He commented.

"Stay focused!"

Kaldur cut-down a Parademon as it loomed behind the young speedster, ready to pounce.

Another five of the creatures went sailing through the air in all directions, propelled by M'gann's telekinesis. They impacted the Cave walls with hard CRACKing sounds that on any normal organism on Earth would have been indicative of a broken spine. But when the monsters slid to the floor they climbed to their feet as if it were nothing. M'gann glared down at them from where she hovered over the hanger, her eyes aglow with her psychic power.

"Tubes shut-down!" Robin announced and rejoined the fray with a barrage of robinrangs that exploded upon being lodged into the Parademons closest to him.

"Great." Artemis had made her way to the spot directly beneath M'gann, which was (relatively) clear of the monsters. She continued to pelt the creatures with arrows, aiming for the eyes and foreheads as she asked, "But what are we gonna do about the ones that are already here!"

They regrouped around the archer. The earth-bound heroes forming a circle, covering each other's backs' while M'gann hovered above, covering them from the air. They reassessed their situation. It did not look to be a good one.

"Escape?" Kid Flash suggested.

"Agreed." Kaldur nodded.

…

Fortress of Solitude

April 1 – 11:11 am

Bruce paused in his consumption of Clark's peanut butter at the sound of a buzzer. It was the kind of obnoxious noise made by intercoms on gated apartment buildings when tenants buzzed their friends in. In fact, it sounded almost exactly like the gate-buzzer on Clark's building in Metropolis.

"What is that?" Asked the Dark Knight.

"It's the guest entrance." Clark supplied, perfectly content to ignore the sound. "I installed it back when the kids started inviting themselves over. Its probably just M'gann coming by to ask about Kon-El again."

"She's been coming here a lot since the boy was taken." It wasn't a question. The martian girl had visited the Fortress five times within the past two weeks. From far down the corridor outside the control room, Bruce's human hearing could just barely make out the sound of Krypto rapid barking. "At least the dog's got someone to play with now."

"That's not his playful-bark…" Clark pushed his chair back from the consol and peered through the door, down the corridor. "And those aren't M'gann!"

In less time than it took to blink a human eye, the Superman's chair was empty, Clark having bolted from the room before the Batman could ask, "What?"

Bruce pulled his cowl back over his head; ready to follow his friend to confront whatever intruder was encroaching on his Fortress when the kryptonian console gave an obnoxious sort of 'zeet zeet zeet' sound indicating an incoming call. The World's Greatest Detective studied the crystal buttons for a moment before pressing one with the word 'ewor' or 'talk' inscribed upon it.

Wonder Woman's face appeared on the main screen. "…rtress, Watchtower to Fortress, Clark, come in!"

"Diana!" Bruce exclaimed.

The Amazon princess looked stricken, her hair a tossed mess, a dark bruise spreading over one cheek, her tiara missing from her high forehead and a small trickle of blood falling over her brow just under her hair-line.

"Bruce!" She called back. "Where's Clark? We could use some super-powered muscle up here!"

"What's going on!"

"It's the-" She was cut off as something out of focus barreled into her in a blur of green and gold. In the moment that her form was absent from view, the Dark Knight was gifted with a wide-shot of the Watchtower's main bridge where Green Arrow was retreating for cover, his quiver empty of arrows.

"Its no good!" The hooded archer shouted to the Amazon princess. "We gotta get outta here! I'm not as durable as you are!"

The Wonder Woman had apparently overpowered the creature that had pounced on her because it was thrown down in front of the camera's view and Bruce could clearly identify it as a Parademon.

"Ollie! Diana! What happened?" He demanded.

Whether they answered him or not didn't matter because Bruce soon realized that he and Clark had problems of their own.

…

Mt. Justice

April 1 – 11:20 am

The zetta-tubes had been shut down to keep any more Parademons from coming in, but that also meant that the Team could not teleport out either. Luckily, that was not the only way out of the Cave.

"I can't believe we're doing this… again!" Artemis was growling as Robin lead the Team through the Cave's ventilations network on a steady course upwards.

"Oh, shut-up and get-"

"I swear to god, if you tell me to 'get traught' one more time…" She trailed off as the sounds of the Parademons swarming grew louder to their ears. They all held their collective breath, hands going to weapons or belts or pulling goggles over eyes in readiment for another wave, but the sound passed and everyone breathed one great unified sigh of relief.

"I believe it would be wiser for us to remain as quiet as possible until we are out of the base." Kaldur suggested with calm authority. Of the five of them, he remained the most composed, but even the atlantian's cool was slipping. His shoulders were set in a near permanent posture of tension and his eyes looked apprehensively uneasy.

Everyone nodded in agreement to maintaining as close to silence as they possibly could and refrain from bantering until they were safe outside. (Assuming, of course, that outside was safe.) Artemis bit her bottom lip to keep from saying anything more and they continued their slow, upward craw. Robin lead the Team through a series of vents that all looked the same to everyone else and they were sure none of them would be able to find their way back if they had to. He finally called a halt at a grate that, after Kaldur pulled it open for them, revealed a narrow ladder climbing up an equally narrow shaft and at the top of said shaft was a circle of gray, overcast sunlight.

"Ladies first." Kid Flash offered to M'gann.

"So that'd be you, then." Artemis snarled at the flirtatious speedster. Honestly, now of all times! Conner had been gone just two short weeks and he was already putting moves on his girl!

"What's that supposed to mean!" Wally snapped back.

"Kid, just go." Robin ordered.

The Kid Flash crawled into the narrow shaft where he was able to stand at his full height for the first time in several minuets and began climbing the ladder.

"Artemis, you're next." Kaldur said.

"Oh, no." Robin shook his head. "You're not making this mistake again. You're not doing this to me again. You go next."

Kaldur was about to argue the point but Robin had reminded him of the repercussions of the leader staying behind. He had made that mistake once already, luckily that had just been a dream-simulation, this was real. Aqualad conceded the point and with a nod to the Boy Wonder disappeared up the shaft.

"Arty, M'gann, you next." Robin began fishing in his belt for something. "I'll cover our escape."

The two girls exchanged twin looks; both knowing full well of the kind of 'cover' the protégé of the Batman was capable of. They disappeared up the shaft as fast as they possibly could, M'gann forgoing the formality of the ladder to just fly herself and the archer up.

They landed next to Wally and Kaldur, the latter of whom asked, "Where's Robin?"

As if in answer a grappling-hook came sailing up through the shaft, arched downwards, caught on a tree and was pulled taught. A few seconds later the Boy Wonder was pulling himself out of the hole to the unmistakable sound of an explosion echoing up from below. Rob rolled clear of the shaft just as a plum of flame erupted out from it.

"What was that?" Wally asked. "Plastique?"

"Something like that." The Boy Wonder flashed him a trollish grin. "The important thing is that they can't get out." He put a hand to his ear and tapped the ear-bud of his JLA comm.-link. "Team to Watchtower, this is Robin, come in Watchtower."

There was no response.

They Boy Wonder tired the only other person the whole Team could turn to. "Robin to Batman. Come in Batman."

…

Fortress of Solitude

April 1 – 11:30 am

Batman was a tad busy.

…As was Superman.

The World's Finest stood back to back. The Dark Knight with three sharp baterangs held between the knuckles of his fingers, ready to be thrown at a moment's notice. The Superman stood with fists at the ready and eyes aglow with the red heat of his vision waiting to be released.

These creatures… they had taken his son from him. Oh sure, they may not have been the ones that had prevented him from getting to Kon-El before he could disappear through the Boom Tube with Granny, but they were of the same ilk. They worked for the same (as of yet, still nameless) master and when Clark finally found that master he was going to show him just how formidable one pissed-off kryptonian could be!

"Why do I even hang out with you?" Bruce growled behind him.

Clark felt the man shift against this back and knew he had thrown his bladed baterangs, this assessment was confirmed by the sound of blades cutting through air and the soft thuds of the projectiles colliding with their targets. Another shift behind him indicated the Batman fishing back into his belt for more.

"Oh, hush. You know you like it!" Clark's grin was wasted as his friend couldn't see it, but that didn't matter.

Bantering with Bruce kept him grounded, kept him in the here and now. He would find the monster whom had stolen his son from him, he would rescue Kon-El and he would beat the ever-living-daylights out of the ones whom taken him from him. But right now he needed to stay focused. Needed to focus on the battle here and now, or else there was no guarantee he'd ever get to the one that was still yet to come.

The Parademons swarmed them and Clark let loose his heat-vision, searing those nearest to him and forcing the others back. They shrieked in pain, the sound shrill and unnatural, a pitch no human voice could reach. It sent a splitting plain shooting through Clark's sensitive ears, but the Superman ignored it.

Bruce's JLA comm. buzzed and Clark wondered where he had left his. (Not that is was really important at the moment.)

"Watchtower?" The Dark Knight ventured hopefully.

The Superman threw the Parademon he'd just been grappling with at one that had been about to lunch at the Caped Crusader. Didn't they know it was rude to bother someone while they were on the phone!

"Robin!" Bruce's exclamation sounded worried.

Though he did not take his attention away from the fight, Clark focused his hearing in on the voice that was coming in over the Batman's comm. channel. Dick's voice drifted to his ears, sounding agitated but with a forced calmness masking it. A skill the boy had picked up from his mentor, no doubt. Though, Bruce was markedly better at it. Apparently, the Mt. Justice base had been hit, same as Watchtower, same as they were right now.

"Call Alfred!" Batman shouted over his comm. "Tell him to put the Batcave on Security Alert Five!" The Batman equivalent to the USAF's defense readiness condition (or DEFCON) system.

Bruce rolled forward out of the way of one of the Parademon's clawed arms. Laying on his back, the Dark Knight kicked upwards, slamming his foot into the creatures groin (a spot that was almost universally sensitive no matter what planet you came from). It seemed Parademons were no exception to the rule as the creature let out a pained whimper and sank to its knees.

"If the Batcave's still safe take the Team there." He continued. "I trust you remember the appropriate guest protocols."

Superman offered him a hand up.

"Clark, I've got to get home."

The Man of Steel looked around them. "We're cut off from your plane."

Bruce threw three more baterangs at just as many Parademons, the sharp bat-shaped projectiles detonating upon impact. "I know."

Their eyes met. Clark looked around at his Fortress one more time. He liked this place, it was a little piece of Krypton on Earth.

"We'll come back." His friend promised.

Clark nodded. "Krypto!" He shouted. "Grab Wolf and head for the front door. Get!"

The Superman picked up the Dark Knight, ignoring his muttered remark of "I hate it when you carry me like this", and zoomed to the exit.

…

Happy Harbor

April 1 – 11:45 am

The bio-ship had, unfortunately, been left abandoned in the hangar of Mt. Justice along with Conner's pet Sphere. The Team was left with no means of actually getting from Happy Harbor, Rhode Island to Gotham City short of walking on their own feet, and that would take all of them but Wally days to get there. But, as always, Robin had a plan.

It was this plan that brought them to a humble and unassuming looking apartment building not far from M'gann's school. It was one of those small complexes, the kind that only had two stories, curled around a pool that no one ever swam in and had the worst possible security a gated building could have. The Team entered the gate just as someone else was exiting it, bold as you please, and the most that happened was they all got a very strange look from the woman as she passed them. No one stopped them. No one asked if they lived there. Worst. Security. Ever.

Robin lead them to an apartment on the second floor and knocked on the door just as Kaldur asked who it was they were coming to see.

The door opened and M'gann exclaimed, "Mr. Carr!"

Lucas "Snapper" Carr gapped at the five teenagers that stood on his doorstep.

"Don't just stand there gawking like an idiot. Let us in!" Robin snapped in his best 'I'm the Goddamn Batman's goddamn partner' voice.

"Uh, uh, sure." He stood aside for the Team to enter.

The apartment was a mess. Dirty dishes in the sink, laundry on the floor, magazines of an illicit nature out in plain sight –it was a bachelor's apartment. Snapper quickly set about straitening things as best he could, picking up his laundry, hiding magazines, etc.

"Who is this guy?" Artemis asked as they watched him rush about.

"He's my history teacher!" M'gann all but shouted.

At that declaration the man paused and gave the Team a sheepish grin. "I used to be a bit more than that."

"Snapper was an associate of the League, and had full access to Mt. Justice. His carelessness was what led to the discovery of the Cave by the Joker four years ago." Robin explained quickly. They were pressed for time and he didn't have the patience for long and drawn-out exposition. Addressing Lucas directly, he said, "Snapper, we need a car. Give me your keys!"

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Wonder Woman carried Green Arrow to the Javelin that rested in the Watchtower's hangar. She threw the Emerald Archer down on a narrow med-cot none to gently and then rushed to slam the ship's hatch shut after them. She muttered a hurried apology to Oliver for the rough treatment as she passed him a second time on her way to the cockpit. Hopping in the pilot's seat, Diana skipped all the safety checks of the start-up sequence and kicked up the engines.

The Javelin shot out of Watchtower's hangar bound for Earth.

Perhaps if they had stayed they might have gotten to meet the Parademons' commander.

The hoard of Parademons that had overrun Watchtower all went to their knees as their Brigadier General teleported onto the bridge.

The man never spoke, and so had not taken a name for himself. Those whom he worked with called him things like 'Silence', 'Quiet', 'Mute'. But none of them were his name. Of course, on Apakolips names were not all that important, it was the man behind the name that mattered. The Brigadier General had been a member of Darksied's Elite for only two short weeks and yet had distinguished himself in battle as well as seasoned veterans like Steppenwolf. Truly, he was one of the finest young Apakoliptan warriors to come through Granny Goodness' training.

He stepped off the zetta-pad and watched the Earth's hero's escape in their pitiful excuse for a space ship. He waved off the Parademons who tried to follow it. Let them run. There was nowhere they could go.

Soon this whole planet would belong to Mighty Darksied!


	7. Recognition

Batcave

April 1 – 12:15 pm

There were several reasons why Bruce hated being carted around in Clark's arms. The most obvious of reasons was that it robed the Dark Knight of his much valued self-reliance, that he was (quite literally) placing himself in someone else's hands. The Batman was the kind of person who did things himself because he didn't trust others to do them right. So, it was a true testament to just how much faith the Dark Knight had in the Man of Steel that he had not only allowed the American Alien to fly him back to Gotham, but that he had actually been the one to ask for the assist. Though, he still felt as though he were giving-up some small personal victory to do so.

That was one reason why Bruce hated being carried by Clark at speeds the human body had not been designed to with stand. But it was not his only reason, and it was not the reason at the forefront of his thoughts at the present moment, as the Superman decelerated to slightly more super-human and slightly less un-godly speed.

No, Bruce's main reason for hating being carried in Clark's arms at that moment was that the human body was not meant to be subjected to the kind of speeds at which the Superman flew. The Caped Crusader supposed he should be happy that his whole body didn't fall apart in his friend's arms, but then again, having his body fall apart (effectively killing him) would have at least saved the Dark Knight from the humiliation of allowing the Boy Scout to see him sick!

Clark landed in the cave.

Bruce all but jumped out of his arms, staggered to a corner… and vomited all over his own boots.

"Sorry." The Superman said in that obnoxiously penitent farm-boy way of his. His voice full of good-natured country grace. "I forgot about the motion sickness."

That set him off. Batman was widely reputed for his short temper, but in actuality he was a remarkably patient man. He had kept his cool through the melee with the Parademons that had invaded Clark's Fortress, while he was concerned for Watchtower he had not let his worry infringe on the matters before him, and when Robin had called informing him that the Cave had also been taken and the Team was outside and exposed, he refused to give into the waves of parental-panic that crashed over the mental and emotional barriers of his self control. But Clark insinuating that he was so weak and pathetic as to suffer from motion sickness was the last straw that broke his fine honed self-control. He spent his nights swinging from rooftops for godssake!

"I'm the Goddamn Batman!" He snarled at the Man of Steel. "I don't get 'motion sickness'!"

Clark retreated a step at his friend's ire. Invulnerability aside, the Batman was scary when angry.

Bruce wiped his mouth while straitening and attempted to reclaim whatever semblance of his dignity he could just as Alfred appeared with a tray bearing a scopolamine patch and a fresh cup of ginger tea. The Dark Knight ignored the scopolamine, it was useless after the fact, and sipped the tea conservatively.

Krypto, bearing Wolf by the scruff of his neck clasped in his jaws landed next to the Superman. The cobra-venom enhanced Wolf, upon his paws touching solid ground once again, was likewise sick all over the floor (only he did not have the decency to dash to a corner) before hurling all over Clark's boots.

"My word!" Alfred's white-gloved hand went to his mouth in polite mortification.

'Serves him right.' Thought the Dark Knight as he watched the Boy Scout lift one filthy boot, dripping with bile and partly digested dog-kibble, and cringe. Then to the Superman he said, "No super-pets in the Batcave. You know the rules."

Clark, with a pitying look to the poor wolf, lifted the cobra-venom enhanced predator into his arms and carried him out of the cave, Krypto following behind.

Bruce turned to his butler. "Did you put out the emergency call to everyone associated with the League?"

"Yes, Master Bruce."

"Has anyone else from the League reported in yet?"

"Not as of yet, I'm afraid. Master Barry expressed concern for his family, as did many others. I imagine they will not be reporting in until they've set their personal affairs in order." He was loath to reply. "But Master Dick did message that he and his Team were on their way."

…

95 FWY (– somewhere between Happy Harbor and Gotham)

April 1 – 12:20 pm

"Can't you go any faster?"

"The speed-limit is seventy-five." Snapper replied with an even and forced calm that did nothing but further grate on the Robin's nerves.

The former JLA-secritary turned high school teacher had been shocked silly when the troop of sidekicks, lead by Robin, had barged into his home demanding he surrender over his vehicle to them. The scenario seemed so ridiculous to the man that it hadn't seemed real at first. He had laughed. Then Robin had fixed him with a steely glare through the white eye-sockets of his domino mask, it was a glare that Snapper had previously thought only the Batman could produce. That single look from the Boy Wonder had silence his laughter along with any and all protests the man had.

In an attempt to reassure the man, the little bird had then produced from his belt a small card issued by Police Commissioner Gordon of the GPD granting the Boy Wonder permission to commandeer and drive any vehicle he deemed necessary… yadda, yadda, yadda.

That was all well and good, but Snapper wasn't about to hand over his Sunshine Yellow '09 Range Rover over to a thirteen-year-old boy and his friends! Hell. No.

…And so, that had lead to Snapper's and the Team's current predicament of driving exactly at the speed-limit and not exceeding it by a single decimal of a mile while Robin complained from the passenger side seat and the rest of his Team scrunched up in the back trying to suppress their discomfort.

…  
Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Aboard the captured space station formerly belonging to the pitiful band of champions called the 'Justice League of America' sat the ever-silent Brigadier General of Mighty Darksied's advanced guard. He sat at the main consol of the bridge, light from the Earth's yellow sun streaming in through the floor-to ceiling cathedral windows, casting a gold sheen over his black battle-suit with its thin patterning in crimson. His helmet, a gift from Granny Goodness at the onset of his mission, rested on the console before him, right beside the screen that was currently displaying a map of North America with a primary focus on the country called the United States.

He tapped a location known as Missouri and found the settlement called Central City. The wider map was then replaced with one of the medium sized city. Dragging his black-gloved finger over the display, the commander found the street he was looking for, followed it to the house and saved the location on the map, labeling it as the home of the Earth-champion known as the Flash.

Returning to the larger map of the United States, the ever-quiet commander wondered if he should mark any other locations. The problem was, while he knew what cities to look in, he didn't actually know where any other members of the Justice League lived. Sure, Batman lived in Gotham and Green Lantern lived in Coast City, Aquaman in Posidonis under the sea, Green Arrow in Star City, etc. But nothing anywhere near as specific as the site's he'd already sent Parademon strike-forces to. No, if he couldn't send troops to attack them in their dens when their guards are down, then there was no point in beating the metaphorical trees to draw them out prematurely. Let the other hero's lay.

He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the invigorating yellow light. They had already taken the League's main base and shut down their covert ops unit, that in and of itself was a feat worthy of praise (not that he would ever expect any from one so great as his Lord and Master, Darksied, it was reward enough just to serve and to know he had served well). The Superman's Fortress had already been taken and that had been an unintended bonus. His masters had not intended him to expose that most secure of bases to attack. It was a shame, however, that the Parademon's had failed to kill or capture the man. He wanted the Superman, now they had no idea where he was. Probably hidng out in another secret base somewhere on Earth, but there was no sense dwelling on it to much. Their paths would cross eventually, he would be sure to see that they did. Now, if only he'd been able to find out where the Batcave was…

The Quiet Brigadier General gave a mental shrug. It didn't matter.

He made a beckoning motion with his hand to call Lashina over to him. She was the field leader of the Female Furies, her and her small shock-group having teleported onto the space station shortly after he'd assessed it to be secure. She had been one of Darksied's Elite far longer than he had and held seniority over him. Mute sometimes wondered if she harbored any resentment towards him, having been given command over the Earth Conquest mission over her. If she did, she displayed none of it outwardly. Lashina was quick to respond to his wordless summons.

She stood by his side, ready to receive her assignment.

The Silent Commander printed out the map that showed the Flash's home and handed it to the Ribbon Warrior. He pointed to Speed Queen as he did so, mutely advising her of the member of her team best suited to neutralize the target. If she wanted to send any others with Speed Queen, that was her prerogative as field leader, Mute was not one to micromanage his colleagues.

"Understood, sir." Nodded the Fury. Quiet waited for her to about-face and carry out the orders, but she paused a moment longer. "And what'll you being doing while we're down there working, Blue Eyes?"

'Blue Eyes'? That was a new one, but Mute couldn't decide if it was meant to be derogatory or endearing. He just didn't have a clear enough gauge of Lashina's character yet, not even after two weeks as one of Darkside's Elite. But in answer to her question, he spread his arms wide, indicating the whole of the expansive bridge with its cathedral windows and no shortage of sunlight, he then reclined back in his chair and lifted his feet up to rest on the console flashing the Ribbon Warrior a teasing grin.

She rested one hand on the alluring curve of her hip. "So, while we're busting our asses dirt-side, you'll be up here taking a sun bath."

He nodded. That was the benefit of a command position after all, minimum effort with maximum swag.

…

Central City

April 1 – 12:00 pm

"Hey, I gotta take a personal day." Barry Allen, a forensic investigator working in the Central City PD Crime Lab shrugged off his lab coat with deliberately moderated haste.

He did not even wait for his supervisor's 'Go Ahead' (or even a reply for that matter) before he was already throwing his man-bag over his shoulder and rushing out the door (and by 'rushing' we mean exiting in a flustered huff with a deliberately moderated haste, no one at the crime lab had ever seen Barry really rush –at least not when they were aware it was him).

But the moment our anxious Mr. Allen was out of the building… he was gone, kicking-up a slight cloud of dust from the street in his wake. In fact, one might even say he was 'gone in a Flash'.

Less than a moment later, Barry was standing in the doorway to his home. "Iris!" He called. "Babe, please tell me you're out on a story, or at the station, or something. If you're not home then just don't answer. But if you are home I'd really, really like you to say something. Babe?"

He zipped from room to room, searching for his wife before his brain caught-up with his speedster feet and he remembered her cell phone. Barry dashed to the kitchen, grabbed the phone off its wall cradle and dialed Iris' cell faster than you could say 'Snack Time!'

Her ringback tone filled his ear. Then-

"West-Allen."

"Babe!" The Flash sagged with relief.

"Barry? You sound weird, what's wrong?"

"Not over the phone." He said, suddenly whispering though it wasn't necessary. "Just, wherever you are, get home. And call your brother and his wife and tell them…" what? "I'm gonna call Wally." Gotta make sure he and the kids were okay too. If Watchtower had been hit then there was no reason to think that the Cave had gone unchecked.

"What's going on?" Now her voice was full of concern.

From down the hall Barry heard the front door open. He gathered as much of the phone cord as he could and leaned out the kitchen doorframe to peer down the hall. A tall slender woman in purple and green armor of an alien design stood in his doorway. His eyes were drawn to her feet which sported tank-like treads on the soles of her boots.

"Uh, on second though, babe, don't come home." Barry's hand went to the ring he always wore, pressed the setting and turned from 'Barry Allen', unassuming forensics investigator, to 'the Flash', the Fastest Man Alive. "Go to your brother's, wait for me or Wally to- oof!"

The Flash didn't get to finish his sentence. The phone hung limply off its hook. "Barry? Barry! Answer me! Barry!"

…

Batcave

April 1 – 1:00 pm

Clark sat with Wolf outside until the animal's motion sickness subsided and the creature fell into a light asleep. Then he gave Krypto affectionate pets so that the Superdog did not become jealous of the cobra-venom enhanced wolf. It was as he was rubbing Krypto's belly (being very careful not to scratch 'the spot' lest the Superdog's uncontrollable foot-jerking cause a cave-in inside the Batcave) that Bruce called the Superman back.

He floated into the cave to find that the Batman had set a number of the monitors in his array to display the news from all over the country. In Central City, Missouri, Iris West-Allen, Barry's wife, was covering a high-speed battle between the Flash and an as-of-yet unnamed female speedster while Parademons swarmed the rest of the city.

"More attacks?" He asked.

"Looks like it." Nodded the Dark Knight. He turned to the Man of Steel. "Notice anything about the attacks so far?"

"Well, they're targeting the League." Clark assessed. "Almost like they want us out of the way for something else. Are you thinking this could be the beginning of an invasion?"

He looked ever so slightly disappointed in the man's deductive skills, but nodded all the same. "But do you notice anything else?"

Clark just stared blankly.

"Watchtower, the Cave, your Fortress, Barry's home… they're all either specific locations or identities that Conner knew about." There, he said it. It didn't take the World's Greatest Detective to figure out that their lost boy was the cause of their current trouble. The Parademon's attack on Clark's Fortress should have made it obvious enough, after all, who else knew about the second entrance besides himself, the Batman, the Team and the boy? But the specific nature of each of the other targets just drove the point home, or at least it did for the Dark Knight.

Why hadn't Clark come to the same conclusion? Because he loved the boy and didn't want to be reminded that he was the mole, that's why.

"You can't know that." The Superman insisted. "Watchtower and the Cave, fine. We already knew Kon-El had stolen the access codes while under their control. But the other stuff, his friend's home and identity… he hadn't been under anyone's control when he was staying at Wally's all those months back. You're implying that he can still remember being himself when he's under the enemy's control. But that doesn't make any sense because when he would come out of it he couldn't remember anything about what he did while he was being controlled."

"You're assuming that the memory lapses hold true for both mental states."

"Well, why not?" Clark asked, suddenly feeling just the slightest bit hostile. "Do you honestly think that if Kon-El remembered being on the Team, going on missions with them, hanging out at the Cave or my Fortress, that he would willingly pass on information that could get them killed to an enemy?"

In his mind, Clark saw the boy on Watchtower, eyes wide with hysterical fear. Heard the panicked desperation in his voice as he begged the Man of Steel to kill him before he could betray his Team and hurt the people he cared most about. No. Kon would rather die before giving up sensitive information about the Team or the League. He couldn't remember being Kon –Conner, whichever, when he was being controlled. When he was under their control, he wasn't Kon, he couldn't remember being Kon. That was the truth Clark chose to believe. Batman was wrong. It didn't happen often, almost never in fact, but this time the Batman had to be wrong!

"I think he was being controlled. Anything beyond that is pure speculation." Bruce's calm, even voice usually soothed his kryptonian temper, but for some reason, today it just grated on Clark's nerves. Of course, having a place you thought was supposed to be safe and having to run and hide in a cave can do that to a person.

"When he's under their control he's not Conner Kon-El Kent!" The Superman didn't want to hear whatever the Batman might say as response to that statement so he turned and walked away, his bright red cape swishing behind him. "I'm going to Central to help Barry."

…And before the Batman could say 'Great Scott', he was gone –faster than a speeding bullet.

…

Central City

April 1 – 1:01 pm

Like hell was Iris West-Allen going to run to her brother's and sister-in-law's house and hide while the story of the century was going on! She had every confidence in her Barry to be able to save the day, no matter the odds. And if he needed a bit of back-up, well there was always the League. (Iris had missed the memo about the League having problems of its own.)

She dragged her cameraman up to the roof of a building with a decently wide view of the city. It was just plain silly to try and follow, Barry –ahem, the Flash around with a camera crew on the ground. At the speeds that he ran she'd just be left in the dust. Shooting from a roof, the shots were farther away, but at least viewers could see what he was actually doing, not just where he had been. All the wile, Iris kept up her narrative. Speaking to the camera, every now and again glancing back at the battle she was reporting on.

The Flash had tried his best to steer the fight away from his home and the nationhood of Danville in general. After shaking off the alien speedster's initial attack, he had shot off east towards the outskirts of town. But it seemed that his alien attackers had predicted his move because he had found a second woman waiting for him just off of highway 274. She was not as speedy as her comrade but her ribbon-like whips had tangled around his ankles, tripping him up and forcing his face to become intimately acquainted with the dusty and weedy ground.

"Damn." He muttered. He was down, but not out. He was the Flash after all. Rolling over on his backside, Barry smiled up at the ladies. "Wanna hear a dirty joke? It involves 27 uses of the word 'vibrate'."

The two exchanged identical looks of confusion. Barry took the opportunity to vibrate his molecules through the alien ribbons binding his feet. In the blink of an eye he was back up and then standing between the two women.

"Sorry, looks like you won't get to hear it after all."

Another blink and the Ribbon Warrior was no longer holding her whips, her whips were holding her. She swore. Struggled a little. Fell over. Swore some more. The Flash waggled a finger at her disapprovingly.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Language, young lady." He admonished. "We're trying to be kid-friendly here. Hey, where's you're friend?"

The speedster-woman had vanished.

She reappeared behind him, announcing her presence with a hard smack that sent Barry spinning. When he had control of himself again he took off in whatever direction he'd been facing (north, to New Brighton) in an attempt to put some distance between himself and his attackers and hopefully glean enough of a breather to think of a plan. He glanced skyward to remind himself of the Parademons that also circled his town. He'd have to do something about them too. Jeez, Watchtower sure picked a hell of a day to get attacked.

Behind him, Flash heard the grinding growl of the Speed Queen's tank treds on the soles of her boots and knew that his enemy wasn't far behind. Whatever he was going to do, he best do it fast. Of course, 'fast' just so happened to be his thing. The rail station was up ahead. What lines were running at this point in the day…? The Green Line ran every thirty minuets, but it was little more than a glorified bus and never traveled faster than seventy miles an hour, Iris' car was faster than that (when there wasn't traffic. There was Mid-Western Line that ran from Denver, Colorado, through Kansas and Central, Missouri on to Springfield, Illinois. That one was pretty fast. If he could coax her onto the tracks and arrange for the train to hit her…

There was some question as to her likelihood of surviving being hit head-on by a speeding locomotive and the Flash (like everyone in the League) did not kill. But then, she was also an alien, and they had the annoying propensity of surviving things that would normally turn an ordinary human being into steak tar-tar. Barry's dilemma was solved, however, when he heard a familiar and tell-tale sonic boom issue from the east and seconds later the Speed Queen was impacted by a blur of red and blue.

Heh, he had planned to hit her with a speeding locomotive, but a man more powerful than one was good too. And as the Earth-born speedster had guessed, the alien-speedster was none the worse for wear. She shook her head, groggy and disoriented, but otherwise unharmed by the Superman. She glared up at the pair of them.

"Alright, talk!" Flash jabbed a finger at the woman as Clark stood with his arms crossed over his chest, an uncharacteristic scowl marring his usually handsome features. "Who sent you? Why are you attacking us? What do you want with Earth? Are out friends on Watchtower alright?"

The woman ignored the Flash. He had been her original target and mission objective, but that was before the kryptonian had shown up. She gazed up at the man, taking stock of his features before concluding, "You're not as handsome as Mute."

"Who?" Both men choired.

Speed Queen took advantage of their momentary confusion to reclaim a standing position. She went to a device on her belt, something Clark recognized as the box that controlled their Boom Tubes. He lunged at the woman, but she was to fast for him. When she had placed just enough distance between herself and the Earth's heroes, she opened her Tube and was gone.

Clark swore in kryptonian.

Barry came up beside him. "Mind explaining to me what the heck is going on?"

…

Central City

April 1 – 1:30

That damn Flash had tied her up in her own whips, the dick! And then he and Speed Queen had taken off, leaving her in this forsaken little spit of dirt beside the freeway. When Lashina got back to the space station, she was going to give Queen a piece of her mind! And by 'piece of her mind' she, of course, meant- Wait, was that the sound of a Boom Tube?

The Ribbon Warrior rolled over, and sure enough, there was an open Boom Tube glowing beside her. A lean muscular figure clad all in black with slight red patterning on his battle suit and one bold red lightning bolt on his chest swaggered out from the Tube. His face was obscured by the helmet he wore, his eyes nothing more than bright red slits, but Lashina was sure he was smirking beneath it.

"Blue-Eyes!" She snapped. "Don't just stand there, get me out of this."

It was hard enough understanding the man when his face wasn't hidden behind that damn helmet Granny Goodness had given him, with the helmet it was damn near impossible to guess what the man of thinking. He walked up to the Ribbon Warrior and knelt beside her. Grasping one of the flat cords that bound her, he pulled and the lash snapped under the strain of his super strength.

Lashina stood. "Thanks, Blue-Eyes."

A shrug was his only response. His attention was focused elsewhere, over the city. His superior hearing caught the unmistakable sound of another Boom Tube opening and closing, Speed Queen turning tail and runny like a coward. He would have to reprimand her for that later. Then there was an exchange of words.

Mute recognized the first speaker as the Flash, what surprised him was the voice that answered him. A voice he'd not heard in two weeks. The voice of a man the young commander of Darksied's Elite thought himself indifferent to. He had been disappointed when the Parademons he's sent to the Superman's Fortress of Solitude in the Arctic had failed to capture him, but then what did he expect? Kal-El was the super-man. Upon hearing that voice, the Silent Brigadier General muttered one word. The first sound to escape his lips since being escorted from Earth by Granny Goodness two weeks ago.

Lashina gaped in shock having never heard him speak before. She didn't know the language, but the word sounded heavy to her ears, as if it held a myriad of meanings for him.

"Ukr-kah." –'Father.'


	8. Superboy-Dark

Central City

April 1 – 1:35 pm

Clark didn't have much of a chance to begin explaining things to Barry. Just as he was about to open his mouth a new player appeared on the field. He came sailing downwards, not the quick but controlled decent of a flyer in a hurry, no, this was the decent of one who could leap great heights and distances in a single bound but was still subject to the laws of gravity; and what went up must also come down, and come down with the same amount of force at which it went up.

Barry threw up his arms to shield his face from the spray of dust and debris that was kicked-up by the stranger's landing. Clark, on the other hand, was not quite so phased. He glared at the newcomer, taking in his alien battle suit with its moderate amount of red patterning on the legs and arms, the bold red lightning bold etched into the center of the chest-plate, a chest-plate that was just vaguely shaped similarly to the S-shield he wore on his own chest. Clark glared at the man, his helmet hiding his face, the eye-sockets nothing more than slits of crimson.

Upon the newcomer's arrival a most familiar and unwelcome sound filled Clark's sensitive ears. He wasn't sure, but he would bet a month of his Daily Planet salary the sound was coming from the man's helmet. …That dissonant cord. A melody that did not belong on Earth, it had no place on this beautiful blue gem. It was apart, alien, anomalous, and discordant. It was the melody that had taken his son from him. Clark's eyes narrowed in loathing as he glared at the man that now stood before him and the Flash. He shifted his vision to the X-ray in an attempt to see the man beneath dark helmet with its scarlet slitted eyes.

His vision did not penetrate it and he growled with frustration. "Lead."

The stranger planted his feet, apart but not to wide as to leave him open, a slight shift to the side to reduce his target area from a frontal assault and his arms arranged as they would best be suited to shift smoothly between blocking and attacking as the situation called for. Both Clark and Barry recognized that stance, they'd seen it often enough.

"Canary Style!" Barry muttered in disoriented surprise.

It was actually called 'Wild Cat's Style', but now wasn't really the time to quibble over names and trademarks. The point was, it was a stance that could have only been learned from either Black Canary or her mentor Wild Cat –i.e. it could have only been learned here on Earth and it only could have been learned from a member of the Justice League or its predecessor the Justice Society.

A heavy, cold and sharp stone of apprehension sank into Clark's stomach as a theory was formed. "Who are you?"

The black-clad warrior did not answer. Instead he pointed to the Man of Steel and then made a hither-to motion as if to say 'Come at me, bro' like in old Kung Fu movies, only this time it held no campy humor.

"Flash," Clark began, not taking his eyes off the newcomer. He seemed to be the right height and roughly the same build, but he couldn't be… No, Clark wouldn't even entertain the idea. He turned from the man momentarily to address his friend and comrade. "Go to Gotham. You know where the Batcave is, right? Check in with Batman, tell him what happened here and… and that there's a new enemy who knows some of the League's individual fighting styles."

"Got it." Barry acknowledged and then was gone in a Flash.

Clark turned back to the masked stranger. "Mighty accommodating of you to wait."

The man merely shrugged. Reassumed his stance and once again motioned, 'Come at me, bro.'

Clark obliged.

He rushed forward with all the force of a speeding bullet-train and caught the man in the stomach, wrapping his arms around his mid-section, Clark lifted them both up into the clouds. The masked villain twisted in the Superman's grip until he could look downwards and see just how far they had climbed. He aimed one solid punch at Clark's side, right above where his kidney would be and the Man of Steel doubled in pain, dropping the black-clad warrior and wrapping his arms around his own mid-section instead.

His punches were just about as hard too… No! Its not him! Don't think that. It can't be!

He, whoever he was, plummeted earthward, this time landing in one of Central City's residential neighborhoods. He gazed upwards at the Man of Steel but Clark couldn't see his face to tell if he were grinning or glaring or any combination of the two.

People looked out through their windows or poked their head out from behind doors to see what had just fallen in the middle of their street and Clark became painfully aware that this was not a good place to fight. The possible casualty count was to high. Whoever this man was, he wanted to fight Superman and didn't seem interested in anyone else. He certainly hadn't tried to stop Barry from rushing off to rendezvous with Bruce and whatever other League members might have checked in since he'd left. Clark was his target. So, Clark would give him the fight he wanted, but not here.

He descended to again stand in front of the man. Grabbing his wrist to block a fresh launched punch the Superman said, "I'll fight you. But not here. I take it you can't fly."

No response.

Lifting the man by the wrist he already held, he levitated them both into the air a second time. "Just don't wail on me until we get where we're going."

Again, the man gave no response. No curt word in an alien language to confirm he'd heard, not even a slight nod. But, this time he didn't fight or struggle as Superman flew them south-west towards Yuma, Arizona. More specifically, to the Yuma Proving Grounds thirty miles north of Yuma City. Where the only collateral damage would be some natural dessert formations and one small military instillation that was probably more than adequately shielded when one considered the types of weapons they tended to make these days.

Clark dropped his opponent unceremoniously before descending himself to plant his feet firmly on the dusty ground before his enemy. "Alright, now what's this all about?"

The man did not answer. Instead he dropped to the ground and swung one black-armored leg out and kicked the Superman's feet out from under him. Clark caught himself mid-fall and hovered back up to a standing position. "Really?"

A shrug. He reassumed his Wild Cat stance.

"Where did you learn that?"

Another shrug.

"I have a friend who uses that stance a lot."

No response.

"Alright then." Clark assumed a stance of his own. "You might know a bit of Wild Cat's style, but I've tangled with Bat-style. Lets see who's better."

…

Batcave

April 1 – 1:45 pm

Bruce groaned and pushed his cowl back from his face as he flopped down in his high-backed swivel chair. Thank goodness for news feeds. The camera was to far away to pick up what Superman had said, but when the Flash sped off to the north-east leaving Clark to deal with the new arrival, Bruce knew there was only one destination he could be headed for. Well, at least one member of the League was on his way.

He turned his attention to pondering the new masked villain. A theory had already formed in his head about him, a theory that his kryptonian colleague would not like. The World's Greatest Detective had always been sure that they hadn't seen the last of the boy after he'd been taken. Admittedly, he had originally thought his reappearance to come in the form of a hostage or bargaining chip, but the moment Bruce saw that black-clad alien warrior use Wild Cat's old fighting style, a style that Black Canary had taught to the Team, he was forced to add 'puppet' and 'henchman' to his list and place them at the top. It seemed Clark's prodigal son had come home but he wasn't looking to be welcomed by daddy with open arms. No, he looked more like he was jonesing for a fight.

And sure enough, he and Clark smacked each other around for a bit before the Superman managed to move the fight away from the city and out of the reach of Iris West-Allen's camera crew.

Bruce switched off the news feed and reached for his JLA comm instead, intending to offer whatever warning or advice he could to the Man of Steel (though in his current mood he probably wouldn't listen), only to remember that Clark had taken out his comm back at the Fortress and had failed to retrieve it prior to making their get away. Great. That was just great. When the obnoxious Boy Scout got back he was going to give the man a good long lecture on always being prepared.

He instead set about placing calls to the remaining Founding Seven that were as of yet unaccounted for.

Hal had been in the middle of a test flight at the time that the SOS about Watchtower went out. He had confirmed that he'd gotten the message but wasn't exactly in a position to rush off right then and there. He had since landed, been debriefed by his employer, excused himself citing a 'personal emergency' and was now on his way to rendezvous at the Batcave. Green Lantern was accounted for. Check.

J'onn, upon receiving the SOS had headed strait to the Cave to make sure M'gann and the rest of the kids were okay. He had found the mountain completely sealed off and when he had phased through the walls found only Parademons and no sign of the children. Bruce was happy to ease the man's worry by informing him that the kids were perfectly fine and, in fact, also on their way to Gotham. At that J'onn had breathed a sigh of relief and assured the Batman that he too would be there soon. Martian Manhunder accounted for. Check.

Orin, upon answering Bruce's call, thanked the Batman for his concern but he wasn't about to leave his wife and their newborn son (or his people for that matter) when it seemed there was a planet-wide invasion going on. If the League needed his input then he would have his comm on him at all times, but he would not leave Posidonis. His capitol city had already been devastated by one enemy attack the previous year, if there was to be another he wanted to be there. In the end, Bruce had to concede, Orin had his responsibilities to his kingdom and his people and those were just as important as his responsibilities to the League. He had to prioritize and it seemed the League was a second priority for him. At least Aquaman was accounted for.

Finally, Bruce made the call he had been dreading –Diana. The last he'd heard from the amazon princess she had been on Watchtower with Green Arrow, trying to fend off the onslaught of Parademons that had eventually taken the Tower. He feared calling her because he didn't want there to be no answer on the other end, or worse, have an enemy officer answer instead. But he needed to know her status, and the status of Oliver while he was at it. He called Diana.

…And was pleasantly surprised and relived to be answered by her video pick-up on Themyscira. The edges of the image were a little fuzzy, as they always were whenever connecting a science-based transmitter like the Batcave's array to a magic-based receiver like the Amazon's mirror on Themyscira or Zatara's crystal ball, etc. But Diana was alive and that was all that mattered. Her tiara had been replaced back on her head; the cut over her forehead had been treated, her bruises already looked to be healing, she still looked beat-up, but she looked far better than she'd seemed earlier that day.

"Bruce!" She answered.

"Diana, what's your status?" He asked, not wanting to mince words and instead got right down to business.

"Just returned from Watchtower." She answered, "Bruce, the Tower's been taken."

"I assumed." He nodded. "Clark's Fortress was also hit and the Cave is sealed off."

"Damn." She swore. Then looked up as if the thought had just occurred. "Are the children…?"

"The Team's fine." It was a little comforting to know that even Leaguers without protégés of their own still worried after the Team. "Continue with your report."

"They were to much for just Ollie and I to handle on our own." She continued. "They took us by surprise and swarmed the bridge. It became apparent that it would be better to flee and return to fight when we were better prepared. We took the Javelin and only just arrived on Themyscira. My sisters are seeing to Oliver's wounds. He's worse off than I am, but he'll survive."

"When can you regroup with the rest of us? The rendezvous point is my base."

"My mother is busy preparing the island defenses. She wants me to brief our warriors on our new enemy. After that I'm all yours."

"Understood." He switched off. Wonder Woman was accounted for. Check.

Flash entered just as he was about to start going down the roster for the rest of the League.

"Heya, Bats." Barry skidded to halt before he ran smack into a wall. "Supes wanted me to give you the skinny, but I kinda don't know what's going on myself. Hey, ya got anything to eat?"

"I'll have something sent down for us." Bruce rewound the news track until he reached an image in which the camera had zoomed in on the masked alien. He paused the frame and swiveled his chair around to face Barry. "What can you tell me about this guy?"

…

Yuma Proving Grounds, Arizona

April 1 – 2:15 pm

A cloud of dust billowed upwards, accented by flying stones flung up by the sheer force with which Clark had knocked his opponent down.

The man shook his helmeted head before turning to glare back at the Superman. Or, at least, Clark assumed he was glaring. Truth be told, it was impossible to tell with that damnable faceplate covering him from forehead to chin. His opponent was strong, almost as strong as Clark himself, and invulnerable too, just as invulnerable as Clark was; they were almost evenly matched, almost. Clark was fairly certain that if he really cut loose he would come out the undisputed victor, but something held him back. A terrible sneaking suspicion about the identity of the one he was fighting stayed his strength, making him hold back just a little every time he threw a punch or opt towards defense when he could go on offence.

It was that sound that did it. Clark was certain it was coming from the helmet now. After grappling with the man for the better part of half an hour, he was sure that the dissonant cord he was hearing originated from the helm his masked opponent wore and he'd only ever hear that cord used to control one person… He hoped it wasn't true. Clark wish to high holy Rao that it wasn't who he feared it might be under than helmet.

"Why don't you talk?" He asked as the man climbed back to his feet.

He lunged at the Superman. Clark merely levitated out of his reach. He could have sent a blast of heat vision at the man, if he aimed just right he might be able to penetrate the narrow eye slits in his helmet's visor and sear his eyes. But he didn't. If it really was who he thought it was he didn't want to. Not for the first time in this fight, he chose passivity over aggression. Ma Kent would be proud of him, but continuing this way wouldn't end the fight any time soon.

Though the black-clad villain couldn't fly he could still jump very, very high and that is exactly what he did after Clark rose out of his reach. He leapt into the air, shooting well over the Superman's head and the American Alien looked up wondering what the man's intention had been, only to realize all to late when he came plummeting back down right on top of the Man of Steel. He landed on Clark's shoulders, wrapping his legs around the Superman's throat. He leaned backwards, hanging off Clark's shoulders like a living cape and once again targeted the man's kidneys with vicious blows.

Clark snarled in pain and threw the man off him. Once gain sending him plummeting earthward. He hovered in mid-air clutching his sides. He hurt so very, very much… and that didn't usually happen to him. He glared down at his opponent, wondering if he was going to pull that stunt again.

He did not. Instead, the shorter man climbed back to his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, looked up at the Superman and… waited.

Clark dared to float downwards a little and make another attempt at conversation.

"Don't you wanna gloat about your apparent superiority?" he asked and was alarmed to find that he was a little short of breath. That also didn't usually happen to him. "Brag about you brilliant plan for world domination? Banter about our gaudy costumes? Exchange groan'tastic puns?"

A shrug.

"Say something!"

He did not. Instead the masked villain simply reassumed his Wild Cat stance and invited the Superman to attack again.

This was getting them nowhere. Clark wanted to end this. He wanted to know who this new enemy was. He wanted to know why he heard the alien melody that had controlled Kon-El coming from the man and he wanted to know the man's connection to his son! The Superman did attack, but this time he wasn't looking to stun or stagger the man, no, this time he had a more specific target in mind, a smaller one, higher on the body.

Clark used a faint to make his opponent think he was aiming a punch to the left and then with his other hand managed to get his fingers up under the helmet right by where the ear would be. The man reacted instantly, tilting his head away from Superman's grip and pivoting slightly. He grabbed Clark's extended arm with both of his and with a sharp tug and a roll of the shoulder he sent the Man of Steel flying (figuratively). Clark caught himself before he could hit the ground and remained hovering.

"Ya know, if I wasn't such a patient guy, I'd be really annoyed with you."

A shrug.

He might be a patient guy, but even the Superman has his limits and this masked opponent was certainly pushing him to his. Okay, he had been holding back because of whom he feared it might be under that helmet and he didn't want to hurt that person. But there was no guarantee that this masked villain was who he dreaded it was, so why handicap himself? Clark decided it was time for the metaphorical kid gloves to come off. His opponent was just as invulnerable as he was, fine. But he wasn't quite as strong as the Superman, neither could he fly and Clark was pretty sure he wasn't anywhere near as fast either. The Man of Steel had a whole slew of advantages over this guy. It was time to use them.

Clark rushed forward at twice the speed of sound and landed one solid upper-cut to the man's chin with the force of a cosmic-anvil and he was propelled upwards into the atmosphere. But just before he could reach escape velocity and be lost to the stars, Clark was there above him. Intertwining his fingers, the Man of Steel brought both fist down on the man's back to send him sailing back down to create a rather impressively sized crater. The Arizona dessert would never look the same after this.

Landing next to his now prostrate form, Clark knelt and rolled him over onto his back. The man groaned with the motion, confirming that he was still alive and the Superman hadn't accidentally killed him. That was good. Clark once again hooked his fingers under the helmet and finally managed to pull it from his opponent's head.

The Superman froze.

He had already guessed it. There weren't exactly many possibilities for who he could have been when one considered his fighting style, but still… Clark had hoped… he had feared… He didn't want it to be…

"Kon-El!"

There was no mistaking that face. It was his own face, just almost two decades younger. His square chin with a strong cleft in it, his high cheek-bones, his strait nose, his prominent brow, his high forehead, his spit-curl of hair… it was all his… his face… his clone… his son…

Clark dropped the helmet. "No…!"

The boy gave a second groan and his eyes fluttered open. Clark's own crystal blue eyes stared back at him. They remained like that for a moment, both men doing nothing more than just staring at one another. Then his look of groggy disorientation contorted into a baiting sneer and he spoke the first words Clark had heard pass his lips since reappearing before him almost an hour earlier.

"Erosh bem, ukr-kah." –'Hello, father.'

…

95 FWY (– somewhere between Happy Harbor and Gotham)

April 1 – 2:45 pm

"This is just ridiculous!" Robin crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back in his seat. "It'll be days before we get to Gotham like this!"

"It's a five hour drive." Snapper Carr had long since lost patience with the Boy Wonder. "Stop complaining and turn on the radio or something."

"It could be only three hours if you'd drive a little faster." The little bird humph'd.

He turned on the radio as Snapper had suggested and flipped through all the presets. Lucas "Snapper" Carr seemed to only listen to 80s rock. The Team could only listen to so much Meat Loaf before they began to have visions of themselves clad all in denim riding winged motorcycles to battle Cobra Commander and Skeletor with Prince Lightstar and Lion-o at their sides. Robin cringed and turned the radio off right in the middle of 'Bat Outta Hell'.

"Hey, I liked that song."

Of course he did.

"Hey, guys…" M'gann's voice timid and hesitant commanded everyone's attention. "I've been thinking… about this whole situation, do you think, maybe, do you think this could just be another training sim that we just forgot about, again?" The timidity was still in her voice, but now the hesitation was replaced by fear. "Its just, it seems really similar. The Earth under attack, we're cut off from the rest of the League and our mentors can't help us…" She trailed off.

"No." Kaldur assured her, placing one strong arm around her narrow shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "Batman promised no more psychic-simulations."

"Yeah." Wally chimed in, always ready to set himself up as the martian girl's 'white knight'. He figured his chanses were better now that Conner was gone anyway. "And besides, no one's died yet that we know of."

He was smacked by Artemis.

"Ack! What'd I do this time!"

"If you're trying to comfort someone, don't add 'that we know of' to the end of it. Idiot." She crossed her arms over her chest in displeasure. "Its cramped back here."

"Well, if you don't like it, we could always pull over and tie you to the hood of the car instead." The Kid Flash offered.

She smacked him again.

"Stop hitting me!"

"You're a superhero, take it like a man!"

Snapper refocused the rearview mirror so he could glare reproachfully at the children. "Cut that out right now." He said, his voice full of classroom authority. "If anyone hits anyone else I will pull this car over and you'll all be walking to Gotham."

Wally and Artemis settled down.

Snapper returned his attention to the road.

Over a private telepathic thread M'gann thanked Kaldur. He had been the first to alleviate her fears and she appreciated it.

/'It was nothing.'/ He placed his hand over hers in what the young atlantian hoped was nothing more than supportive gesture.

…

Yuma Proving Grounds, Arizona

April 1 – 3:00 pm

"Erosh bem, ukr-kah." Conner sneered.

Clark remained motionless, frozen in horrified disbelief. Back in Central City he had first suspected that the masked alien warrior might be his lost clone whom had been spirited away only two weeks ago. The moment he had used Wild Cat's fighting style, a style that Black Canary had taught the Team, a style that could only have been learned from Canary or Wild Cat himself. Clark had suspected, but he had denied those suspicions, not wanting his enemy to be his son.

But it was. It was Conner… it was Kon-El. His clone… his son.

Around them the music swelled, a dark ominous melody full of deep winds and ill-tuned strings. A melody of malevolent power, a dissonance that didn't fit with the rest of the Earth's natural rhythm. Clark hated that sound, the dissonant cord that controlled Kon-El, that vile bewitching melody that had robbed his son from him.

The Superman snatched the ebony helmet from where he had dropped it and, summoning all his kryptonian strength, ripped the alien lead-alloy in two. The melody sputtered and died away, fading into the wind. Clark tossed the two halves of helmet aside and turned his attention back to Conner.

"Kon-El?"

The boy just looked at him. Glanced to the broken halves of head-armor, then back to his genetic-parent and raised one quizzical eyebrow. As if to say, 'Did you expect something to happen?'

"It's gone." Clark stood and offered his son a hand up. "Let's go home."

Conner took the offered hand, but he didn't use it to pull himself up. Instead, the boy yanked hard enough to throw the Man of Steel off balance and before Clark knew what was happening, he was on his back, straddled by his clone and having his face beaten in by the younger man. Apparently, now it would take more than just turning off the sound to restore Kon-El to normal.

Conner pummeled Superman's face, tearing the rough material of his gloves against the near invulnerable flesh of the man's cheeks and forcing his head into the dusty Arizona ground. Clark, like most people, did not take to kindly to having his head used as a punching bag. He swung his feet up, tipping Conner forward and causing the boy to do a summersault to avoid smashing his own face in the dirt (not that such a thing would have hurt him at all). The two regained their footing and glared at one another. Crystal blue eyes to crystal blue eyes.

"Snap out of it, Kon!" Clark pleaded. "The music's gone."

It goes without saying that Conner did not snap out of it. If destroying the source of the mind control didn't return him to normal, then a few encouraging words definitely wouldn't. He sent another blow flying at the Man of Steel, this one aimed at his stomach. Clark blocked it, only to realize all to late that it had been a faint and the heel of Conner's other hand impacted him in the center of the chest instead, sending the Superman staggering backwards.

Can't forget he was trained by Dinah. Black Canary was one of the foremost martial artists in the world. But Clark knew Bat-style, admittedly only from the receiving end. The problem was, he really didn't want to fight Kon-El, not seriously at least. He didn't want to risk harming the boy in any sort of permanent sense. He knew how strong he was, he could move mountains, throw a football into outer space, crush coal into diamonds in his bare hands, chew titanium alloy like it was gum… Conner might be his clone, but he was a version of himself from when Clark was still in his mid-teens. The boy didn't have all his powers and abilities and if Clark were to really cut loose and go all out on the boy… He ran the risk of damaging him permanently.

Evil-Conner, for his part, seemed to be well aware of this fact.

While Superman was hesitant to strike the young Superboy of Darksied's Elite, the Superboy-Dark had no such qualms about wailing on the Superman. And he did so, without hesitation, without empathy and, without remorse but instead with extreme prejudice.

…

Batcave

April 1 – 3:20 pm

J'onn and Hal arrived within moments of each other, causing Barry to look up from the tea and sandwiches Alfred had provided for him. Bruce, on the other hand seemed not to notice them. This wasn't the case, of course, the Batman was always acutely aware of everything around him, he simply chose to ignore his comrades' mundane comments of, "Ooh! Cucumber sandwiches!" in the case of Hal Jordan and, "Was that Wolf and Krypto guarding the entrance? Where is Clark?" in the case of J'onn.

It was actually the latter of the Martian Manhunter's questions that the Batman was trying to answer. The idiot Superman didn't have his JLA comm on him and so couldn't be tracked with it, and Bruce had been locked out of Watchtower's planetary surveillance system but the Batcave was still hooked-up to Wayne Enterprises network and it was just a hop, skip and a jump to patching into a Wayne Tech satellite. It wasn't until the main monitor array projected the image of a pot-marked and torn section of the Arizona dessert in which two humanoid figure could just barely be seen through the dust cloud that Bruce turned to the three members of the Founding Seven that had gathered in him cave.

"This is where Clark is." He informed them. "Orin's not coming and Diana won't be along for a while yet."

"Is she okay?" Asked the Green Lantern. "She was on Watchtower when it was hit."

"She and Oliver will be fine." Bruce understood concern for their comrades perfectly, but now was not the time to get sidetracked. "But we still need to gather the rest of the League."

"And the children." J'onn added. "You said M'gann and the others were on their way here. Where are they?"

"Yeah." Barry added. "My wife and in-laws will kill me three-ways dead if anything happens to Wally."

"They're on their way." Bruce assured them.

…

95 FWY (– just outside Gotham City limits)

April 1 – 3:30 pm

The Sunshine Yellow '09 Range Rover did end-up exceeding the speed limit finally, making a five-hour drive only three and a half hours. They were now approaching Gotham City limits much to everyone's collective relief. Robin pointed out an exit off the 95 that turned into a dirt road, which turned into an ill-maintained highway, which then turned back into a dirt road. And then, quite arbitrarily it seemed, he asked Snapper to stop the car and let them off.

The old JLA secretary turned schoolteacher looked confused but did as he was told all the same. Robin was the protégé of the Batman, after all. He let the kids off on the side of the dirt road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

"Are you sure this is where the Batcave is?" He asked the Boy Wonder.

"This is not where the Batcave is." Robin was quick to answer. "But you don't have clearance to go there and, frankly, after that fiasco at the Cave four years ago, Bats doesn't want you anywhere near one of his bases. We'll walk the rest of the way."

That was a snub if Snapper ever heard one. Still, he was a teacher and felt a tad responsible for the kids and so he had to press, "Are you sure you kids'll be okay?"

"We'll be fine." The Boy Wonder assured him. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Snapper a second dose of his own 'bat-glare'.

With a sigh, Lucas Carr got back behind the wheel and drove away. Leaving the Team, for all intents and purposes to him, in the middle of nowhere.

Once the car was well out of sight and no sign of sunshine yellow could be seen through the trees and no crunch of gravel under tires could be heard by their average human hearing, Robin turned into the woods, motioning for his Team to follow him. He lead them through dense threes with thick underbrush crowding their and his path seemed to be a random twisting one that, Kaldur was sure, caused them to cross their own trail at least twice (possibly three times, the atlantian couldn't be sure). But he couldn't decide if it was because the Boy Wonder was lost or if he were doing it deliberately in order to confuse them so that they'd never be able to find the Batcave a second time on their own. Both explanations seemed equally likely to the Aqualad.

Finally, Robin's twists and turns stopped and the trees thinned out enough to reveal a clear trail. Not a natural, but something that had clearly been worn down over time by something running back and forth over it repeatedly. Something wide with at least four wheels –the Batmobile maybe? The five of them followed this trail to what appeared to be nothing more than a sheer cliff-face. A faux cliff-face probably, something to camouflage the entrance to the Batcave. This assumption was only confirmed by the two large which dogs that lounged around where the trail met the foot of the cliff. Well, one dog and one wolf. Of alien dog from planet Krypton and one genetically altered Wolf through the use of cobra-venom. The Team recognized them instantly.

"Wolf! Krypto!"

The two dogs rushed forward and pounced on the martian girl. M'gann gave them each affectionate scratchies and pets which they licked her face yipped affectionately.

"Huh, I wonder why Uncle Supes brought them here instead of leaving them at the Fortress." Artemis crossed her arms over her chest.

"Duh! They're here to guard the Batcave." Kid Flash said as if this were obvious. "But can we just go in now? I'm starving!"

Of course he was.

Robin touched something on the rock-wall, the others didn't quite see what it was. It had been concealed beneath a small hanging shrub that grew out the side of the cliff. But whatever it was, a large segment of cliff-face shifted at its touch to reveal a very clean, steel-plated cavern leading in and slightly downwards. Robin entered first, the Team followed, the wall slid back into place behind them. He stopped a few feet inside the Cave and pulled a sliding tray out of the wall. The kind they sometimes use in banks for safety deposit boxes.

"Sorry, abut this guys." Said the Boy Wonder. "But, Kaldur, Arty, I need you to hand over your weapons."

"Seriously?" The fem fatal archer asked skeptically.

"Standard procedure for all newcomers." Robin shrugged. "Batman's orders."

Reluctantly, the archer and the atlantian complied. Artemis un-slinging her quiver of arrows from her shoulder and handing it along with her compound bow and smaller crossbow over to the little Bat-trained bird. He placed them in the tray, labeled it 'Artemis' and slid the tray back into the wall. He then pulled out a second tray and repeated this process with Kaldur, labeling his tray 'Aquald' before sliding it back into the wall. He didn't tell either of them, but their weapons inside those boxes would be analyzed by the Batcave's main computer for any weaknesses or counter methods to combat them. Batman might be many things, but cautions and 'always prepared' would always be on the top of that list. As for Kid Flash and Miss Martian, well, their powers and weaknesses were the same as their mentors'.

Robin lead them further into the cave, across a catwalk over a wide and deep chasm and then finally into the main portion of the cave. There they saw that Batman, Green Lantern, the Flash and Martian Manhunter had already gathered.

"Uncle J'onn!" M'gann flew to her uncle's side and was swept up in an affectionate hug.

"Wally! You're alright!" Barry stood to likewise hug his nephew but the young speedster zoomed out of his reach before he could.

"Ooh! Sandwiches!"

Robin was far more dignified as he made his way to his mentor to make his report. But before a single word could pass the little bird's lips, he was cut off by an exclamation from Artemis.

"Oh my god!" She jabbed a finger at the still maskless Batman. "You, you're… you're… You're Bruce Wayne!"

Bruce growled. All his caution and planning and tricks and his identity is brown away by a single moment of carelessness. Damn it all!

The archer then turned to Robin. "That means that you're…"

Robin grinned a trollish grin and withdrew his civilian iPhone from his utility belt. He crossed the chamber back over to her to show a picture he'd taken back in September. "I told you we'd laugh about this one day."


	9. Exposition

Batcave

April 1 – 4:00 pm

Bruce Wayne suppressed a growl. He had pulled his cowl down back when he had been making calls to the rest of the Founding Seven and had simply forgotten to pull it back over his face when people started arriving. All the Founding Seven knew each other's identities and so Bruce hadn't thought about his cowl, other than to lament how obnoxiously hot the thing got. It was a testament to just how much of his mind was preoccupied with the overarching situation that he had failed to consider his mask when the children arrived.

All that caution. All the careful measures he'd taken over the years. All that training and conditioning he'd given Dick in order to protect their identities and it was all undone in one brief moment of carelessness.

Dick, for his part, was showing Artemis a picture he'd snapped with his iPhone on the girl's first day of school.

The Batman pulled his cowl back over his face.

"It's a little late for that now, Mr. Wayne." The blond archer commented, voice laced with amusement.

He focused one intense and angry bat-glare at the girl and the humor drained out of her and was replaced by the same fearsome awe that most people regarded him with. He might be Bruce Wayne, Gotham Prince, Millionaire Playboy and Lay-About by day; but after the sun set, under the cover of darkness… he was the night!

"Hey, is that Uncle Supes on the TV?" Kid Flash interrupted the tense atmosphere.

Everyone's attention then shifted from the Batman and fem fatal archer and instead turned to the main monitor array where Bruce had left feed from his Wayne Tech satellite playing. In the three minuets that their attention had been elsewhere the fighter in black had managed to overpower the Man of Steel. The red and blue hero had gone limp, not dead but unconscious. His alien opponent slung the kryptonian's arms over his shoulders and, placing his other arm under the man's groin, hoisted the Superman up onto his back.

"Okay, wait, how in the hell did that happen!" The Green Lantern's eyes went wide behind his emerald domino mask. "I've seen Supes catch meteors with his bare hands. No way some random dude in a Tron suit nails him that easily."

The Dark Knight's eyes narrowed at the screen. There was only one way anyone could manage to beat Clark in a strait fight that didn't involve kryptonite, red solar radiation, or magic and that was if the Man of Steel were holding himself back. There were any number of reasons why the overly accommodating Boy Scout would refrain from using his full strength and full power set, but Bruce had already deduced the likely identity his opponent and, to be completely honest, the World's Greatest Detective was a little surprised Clark had lasted as long as he had.

The Wayne Tech satellite's picture wasn't quite as clear as what the Watchtower had been equipped with, in addition to that the picture was obscured by the thin cloud of dust that still hovered in the air around them and finally, the satellite only offered a view from directly above. So, unless the man looked directly up, there was no way to get a clear view of his face. Still, the hair color, the set of his shoulders and general body type was right… Bruce wondered if the others would notice and draw the same conclusion.

They watched the screen as the alien attacker shifted the Superman on his shoulders to free one hand and thumb a device on his belt to open a Boom Tube. The two men disappeared.

"Great." Flash groaned. "We're gonna have to rescue him. Aren't we?"

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Lashina blinked in confusion as she watched Blue Eyes teleport back onto the bridge with the Earth's Superman slung over his shoulders. The silent brigadier general threw the larger man down on the titanium-paneled floor and he gave an unconscious groan, denting the floor with his shoulder.

"You were supposed to kill him." The Ribbon Warrior said in confusion.

He flashed her a look of mingled exasperation and annoyance with just the slightest bit of questioning thrown in as if to say, 'Do I tell you how to do your job?'

Seeing as how he was currently her commanding officer, Lashina could have easily answered "Yes." to that unspoken question. But also, considering he was her commanding officer, that probably wasn't such a smart idea.

Mute stretched the tension out of over-tired muscles. His fight with the Superman was much easier than it should have been considering the strength and power differential between them, but that didn't mean that it was in any way actually easy. The kryptonian warrior was exhausted, but there was still one thing he wanted to do before he took a breather.

Grabbing one of the Superman's arms, he dragged the two hundred and thirty-five pounds of kryptonian hero over to the bridges main comm consol. He keyed in the code that would relay a signal through his own Fatherbox and send it back to Apokolips, when the signal reached its intended receiver their image would be displayed on the Watchtower's comm screen and they could converse as if over a normal comm channel. There was a bit of a longer delay in actually forming the connection and occasionally the connection suffered from a maddening amount of lag. But overall, it was a perfectly functional method of communication.

Finally, after a prolonged pause, Granny Goodness' visage appeared on the screen. "Oh, my precious boy." She crooned, "I hadn't expected to hear from you so soon."

In answer to her unasked question of 'Why are you bothering me so early in the invasion?', Superboy-Dark lifted the Superman up by a fist full of hair for Granny to see. The man gave another groan this one louder and the silent brigadier general wondered if he were regaining consciousness.

"You were supposed to kill him." Granny's eyes narrowed with displeasure.

Superboy-Dark blinked his crystal blue eyes at her innocently. He nodded to his genetic-parent then tapped his own forehead and grinned suggestively.

It took Granny a moment or two longer to understand what he was trying to say, then her eyes alighted with malicious glee. "Oh, my precious boy, that is just a darling idea!" She exclaimed. "You're a chip off the old Granny-block, you are. Just give me a moment to put some equipment together and I'll pop on over, shall I."

The boy grinned again, this time with pleasure.

…

Batcave

April 1 – 5:20 pm

The sun had begun to dip low over the wooded hills behind Wayne Manor that obscured the Batcave. Wonder Woman had finally arrived, as had a number of other League members aside from the Founding Seven.

Black Canary all but pounced on the amazon princess the moment she entered the cave, and demanded information on Green Arrow. At Diana's assurance that he was alright and was being looked after by her sisters on Themyscira, the blond bomb-shell's shoulders had sagged with relief and she turned to Red Arrow and gave a short sob into his chest before composing herself to face the rest of the League.

When everyone who was coming had been assembled and updates as to the whereabouts of those not in attendance were given they all sat down to conference –the Young Justice Team included.

Kid Flash practically hummed with excitement sitting next to his uncle at the wide circular meeting table. He never would have imagined he'd be sitting at the table being included in a serious meeting with the world's greatest heroes so early in his career. His Team had been working for the League for less than a year. Sure, the world was under attack by an invading alien enemy, but that was like a normal Thursday for these guys… right?

Batman called the meeting to order. A hush drifted over the table as all eyes turned to the Caped Crusader.

"I trust you're all aware of the situation."

There was a sober nodding of heads and somber mutterings of affirmatives.

But just to recap. "Watchtower was attacked and subsequently captured earlier today by an invading alien force. At the same moment, the enemy also launched simultaneous attacks on the Mt. Justice Cave and Superman's Fortress of Solitude. Being unprepared for these attacks, both bases were lost, the Cave being sealed-up to trap the invasion force and the Fortress had to be abandoned as neither Superman nor I were equipped to defend it. Not long after that, another attack was launched on Central City with the Flash as the main target."

"Yeah," Barry crossed his arm over his chest. "And I'd really like to know how they found my home!"

Bruce already knew how, but he wasn't sure if the others were ready to learn the identity of the enemy leader. Instead he continued, "Superman rushed to give aid to the Flash but was locked in battle with one of the enemy's higher ranked operatives and was subsequently captured."

At this last statement there was a chorus exclamations of disbelief.

"No way!" said Red Arrow blinked behind his back domino mask.

"I've seen that guy bench-press mountains!" One of the Lanterns exclaimed. "No way he's beaten and we don't even feel it on the other side of the globe!"

Everyone else had a comment much the same. "I've seen Superman do BLANK, no way he can be beaten that easily, no way without the rest of the world feeling some sort of shockwave from the battle, no way, no how, no sir!" Batman had to once again call for order, this time banging his leather and kevlar gloved hand on the table loudly.

"Now we must decide what to do." He said. "It goes without saying that we need to regroup and plan a means of striking back at the enemy. But I'd also like to send a small force to try and rescue Superman. His-"

"One, two, three, not it!" The Flash cut him off.

"Not it!" The first Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, echoed.

Batman shot them both a look of steely disapproval. They were supposed to be adults. Why could they not act their ages? At least while the kids were present. They were setting such a bad example!

"What?" The Fastest Man Alive shrugged. "The things that Supes usually needs to be rescued from are really, really hard."

Everyone on the Team exchanged a look.

"We'll go." Robin stood.

"We will be needed planet-side." Batman glared at his partner. Had Dick seriously just volunteered his superior for a mission?

"No, I meant-"

"He means us." Aqualad stood and placed a hand on the Boy Wonder's shoulder. The remaining three teens all nodded. "We're your covert ops Team, while the rest of the League is off fighting the main bulk of the invaders, we'll sneak onto Watchtower and rescue the Superman."

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Clark rose to consciousness slowly, in stages. Someone was hoisting him up and having trouble with it, finding his dense kryptonian body heavy. Strong bracers of a cold metal were clamped around his wrists and he hung by them. The air was stale, like it had been filtered through carbon scrubbers rather than flowing freely on the winds, wherever he was, it was a sealed base. There was the scrape of boots on metal floors, the rhythmic thumping of two… three heartbeats, no, two heartbeats and a machine of sorts that mimicked a heart?

A rough and calloused hand gripped his chin, lifting his face up and turning it from side to side. The fingers were tipped in sharp, almost claw like, nails and they bit into Clark's skin, not something easily done. His handler was no doubt some sort of alien. …And then the fell captor spoke.

"Mm, he really is a prize catch, my boy." That voice! "I'm rather glad you didn't kill him after all."

He opened his eyes just in time to see Granny Goodness give Kon-El, give his son, a pat on the head, a pat on the head that the boy seemed to accept happily. Clark glared daggers at the vile woman. She had stolen his son from him and had brainwashed him to, not only doing her bidding, but doing it gladly and for nothing more than a literal pat on the head. A very un-Superman like growl issued from the Man of Steel as he watched his son and the alien Granny.

"Oh, he's awake." She said with a malevolent grin.

Clark looked past her to his clone. "Kon-El…?"

"Ukr-kah." The boy acknowledged.

"Oh, I had heard that you're speaking now!" The Granny clapped her hands excitedly. Conner only nodded. Granny patted him on the shoulder. "I can handle him now, my boy. Why don't you have a little sit-down. You look pooped."

She pinched his cheek with what, on any other old woman, would have been called 'affection', causing the boy to grimace with discomfort. He offered a curt but respectful half-nod half-bow to the Granny and turned to exit, but paused just as he was passing by Clark. He gazed up at his genetic-parent suspended by the wrist-cuffs.

"Kon-El… this isn't you." He tried, hoping his words would reach the boy. "Snap out of it."

Well, he must have struck something in the young kryptonian-genomorph because the next thing Clark knew, Conner had wrapped his arms around him in what could only be described as a 'hug'.

"Khup fardeiget uchavia rrup." When he pulled back, the boy's crystal blue eyes were full of hopeful anticipation and anxious nerves.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Clark blinked in sudden apprehension. But the boy had already left the room. Kon-El had said, 'I look forward to working with you.' He fixed his eyes on Granny Goodness, "What did he mean by that?"

The Granny gave a shrug, "I assure you, I don't know."

She brought a tray over to where the Man of Steel had been suspended. She set it down on a small service table and Clark could see it held several skin-adhesive nodes. He didn't need to ask what those were for; the Superman already decided he did not want to find out. He balled his hand into a fist and pulled against his restrains as hard as he could, there was no give. He tired again with the restraint on the other wrist, still nothing.

"Oh, don't bother, my dear boy." Granny shook her head in amusement. "Those cuffs are a terillium-carbonic alloy, not even a kryptonian under the influence of yellow sunlight can break them. You'll stay where you are until I decide to let you down."

She attempted to place one of the adhesive nodes on his temple but Clark pulled his head away. She tried to place it on the other side, he leaned his head the other way. She grew impatient, grabbed him roughly by the ear and held his head steady to place the node on his temple. He snarled but couldn't do much else in retaliation.

"Oh, my!" Huffed the old woman. "Now I see where my little boy gets his temper."

He's not yours you pan-galactic manipulative bitch! "Something's been bothering me." Clark said, ignoring the woman's comment about his temper. He felt he had every right to be angry given his circumstances. "I destroyed Kon-El's helmet with the tone, and I don't hear anything right now, why hasn't he returned to normal?"

"Oh? I could easily counter that by asking what makes you think the boy you knew was his 'normal' self in the first place?"

Clark blinked in surprise, so startled that he offered no resistance when she placed a second node on his other temple. "You lie!" He snarled. "Kon-El… Conner… Superboy… He's one of us. He's one of me… mine! The Kon-El I got to know, that's the real Superboy, not this… this… folen-fuhn you turned him into."

"Oh, not you too." Groaned the old woman. "Cut the kryptonian potty-mouth, my boy, or else I'll have to bend you over my knee."

For a second time Clark blinked. "I haven't made this sound since the sixth-grade but… eww…" He grimaced for a second time as well. But he needed to stay on point, keep the old woman talking. Bruce wouldn't get distracted like this. "Then how'd you do it?"

She paused in reaching for a third node. "Do what?"

"If you say that my Kon-El is the fake and that your… what are you calling him, by the way? –is the real him, how'd you do it?" Elaborated the Superman. "What kind of programming did you use? You must have had to implant it during his incubation in Cadmus. How'd you do it?"

Now it was finally the Granny's turn to blink. "Oh, you mean you don't already know? I would have thought that Batman of yours would have put it together by now, as soon as he learned that it was us who control the boy. No? Some much for Earth's 'Greatest Detective'. The Light and their Cadmus Projects were working for Mighty Darksied."

"Darksied?" Clark asked, then regretted it. That must be the name of their leader, or their organization, or their Empire or something; but that wasn't what was important right now, that would have to come later. Right now he needed answers about Conner. "Forget it. Why did you have Cadmus make Superboy?"

Granny placed a third node in the center of his forehead. "Why, to destroy you." She said as if this were obvious. "I thought you people always knew that. That was one of the first things my little boy told your people when they found him."

"Why me specifically? Why not clone everyone in the League their own personal assassin?"

"Because you're the one with no obvious weaknesses and therefore the most difficult to kill." She huffed. Granny Goodness moved the now empty tray aside and reached up above the Man of Steel to pull something down over his head. "It was setting his sleeper programming that was the real challenge." She continued with no prompting from Clark. "You see, he would be the first of my little chickadees to grow-up without me to guide his way. So, I designed my little psychic symphony and placed a… oh, what is word… a 'receiver' of sorts deep in his subconscious. You see, its been part of him since before he was 'born'. That is the real Superboy."

It wasn't true. Clark refused to believe it. "Tell me about the symphony."

Granny crossed her arms over her chest. "My, my, my, you are an inquisitive one. What are you in your off hours, when you're not playing hero? One of those plucky little story hunters who are always poking their noses where they shouldn't. What do you call them? Muckraker?"

Reporter. "Yes." He said with a completely strait face. "Yes that's exactly what we call them. Tell me about the symphony."

"First, tell me: Do you know what 'sound' is? Its vibrations." She said before he could answer. "That's all anything is, really. Colors are the vibrations of light as they're refracted through your eye, sound is the vibration of air against your eardrums, everything is a vibration in one form or another –everything vibrates."

Clark suppressed the urge to groan. This was going to turn out like Flash's "27 Uses for the Word 'Vibrate'" joke, wasn't it?

"That's what the symphony is." She continued. "The cosmos vibrating together in one great harmonious orchestra. Everything has its own individual pitch, its unique tone… and for every individual tone, there is a counter-vibration that cancels it out. It was all a matter of finding the right tone to cancel the natural rhythm that Superboy's existence would have produced and replace it with one of my own design, one more compatible with Apokolips rather than Earth or the late Krypton."

That must have been why is seemed like the tone he'd heard didn't belong, or wasn't part of the Earth's natural rhythm –because it wasn't.

"What about now?" He pressed. "You're not using the music now. How come he's still under your control?"

"Ah, that's a simple one." She smiled cheerily. "After I got him back to my own little nursery on Apokolips, I did a little fiddling and fine tuning until he was perfect –until he didn't need the melody anymore because its already a part of him."

"Then why the tone in the helmet."

"Oh, that little bit?" Now her smiled was once again malevolent. "That was for you. I have this little flare for the dramatic, you see, and you seemed so invested in finding my little melody and stopping it before that I just couldn't resisting throwing you that little bone. It was rather nicely done, I think."

Clark had a different opinion.

"Now, if you're done stalling…" She moved her hand ominously towards a switch.

"One final question." He said quickly. She paused, giving him an annoyed frown. "Why does he only speak kryptonese?"

"I was rather hoping you could tell me that. I can only assume that it's a result of some unaccounted for algorithm, or variable you introduced, or something." Her hand was on the switch now.

"One more thing!"

Again, she paused.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Oh, I should think that would be obvious." Granny smiled in amusement. "I'm going counter-vibrate your natural melody until you're loyal to Great Darksied! …Or are turned into a vegetable." She shrugged. "Really, I'm not picky. But this will be the first time I've tried it on someone whose mind is already fully formed. Regardless of the result, it should be an interesting experiment."

She flipped the switch.

…

Batcave

April 1 – 5:56 pm

"I'm going to say the same thing I say to you before every mission, because this mission is no different than any other."

Meeting of the Leaguers whom had regrouped at the Batcave had adjourned, leaving only the Team seated at the wide round meeting table. Black Canary also remained behind, hovering by the door, not wanting to leave so that she could offer whatever support she could to the kids but also wanting to be in a position to easily be delivered any word on Green Arrow's condition. Batman had keyed a holo-projector in the center of the round table to examine a schematic of the Watchtower as he began the mission briefing.

"You've never said that before a mission." Kid Flash raised his hand.

"What?"

"Which would imply that this mission is different somehow." His own little bird elaborated on his comrade's observation.

Bruce suppressed the urge to growl. There was no sense in becoming annoyed with the kids because they were smart. He never would have allowed the Young Justice Team to be formed if they hadn't been clever. Intelligence was a vital yet deplorably under-rated requisite of heroing. A person could have all the power in the world, but that didn't amount to a single goddamn thing if said hypothetical person didn't have to common sense to control or use that power.

"This will be your first off-planet mission." He said.

The Dark Knight wondered if he should warn the kids about his suspicions that Conner was the one that had captured Clark. At the moment all his evidence was circumstantial, he had never gotten a good look at Clark's opponent's face and all he had to go on were his own observations. True, his deductions were usually right, but he didn't want to send the Team in with a heavy psychological handicap on a 'usually'. And so he refrained from sharing his suspicion. He would tell Robin later, before they left.

"Miss Martian's bio-ship is still locked up in the Cave, so you will be taking my Batwing." He called up a small hollow image of the bat-plane that was also convertible for short bouts of space-travel.

"For serious!" Wally all but jumped with glee.

"Kid, please, no more outbursts." Aqualad shushed him.

Batman continued. "The Batwing handles similarly to a Boeing F/A-XX but with a few small differences. If you continue to climb in altitude, the 'Wing will begin atmo-skipping. With a little cute-maneuvering, Robin, you should be able to achieve escape velocity." Of course he would not even entertain the idea of anyone but his own partner piloting the Batwing and even then Bruce felt nervous. He still didn't let Dick have his own key to the Batmobile. "You will dock with the Watchtower here."

The holo-schematic shifted to zoom-in on and highlight a small sub-docking bay on the opposite side of the station from the main hangar bay –a back door. Of course there was a back door, Batman had designed the Watchtower. What was that old saying about rabbits and escape tunnels?

"There are three places where they could keep Superman –mostly- contained." He continued. "They are the detention cells near the 'tail' of the station, here." The image shifted again and a new section was highlighted. "The interrogation room, here." And other shift and highlight. "Or Superboy's old room, here."

At the mention of their lost comrade the Team's collective mood turned from sober but determined to sullen and mournful. Once again Bruce considered telling them.

"You are to get in, get Superman and get out. Nothing more. No changing he plan, no ill-conceived attempts at heroics, no kamikazes or self-sacrifices. You all come back! If you have to abort in the middle and leave without the Big Blue Idiot then fine, leave. But you kids come home. Have I made myself clear?"

He glared at each of them.

"Superman is just one man. One man who knows the risks of what he does and their consequences. You are five. You're still young and have your whole careers ahead of you and will be more valuable in the long-run than one kryptonian Boy Scout."

Not to mention that they were all his responsibility and Bruce already knew he didn't want to face their parents, families, or kings should any of them fail to return from this mission. Dealing with Clark after Superboy was taken had been hard enough and Clark only just started to bond with the boy then. As bad as it had been with the Superman, it would be a million times worse with real parents whom had raised their children from conception, or uncles from alien cultures that deeply valued family and children, or ruling-class mentors whom had faced down death with their subordinate more times than can be counted.

They all nodded their understanding. Good.

"You all know what to do." Bruce nodded back. "You're dismissed. Artemis, Aqualad, Agent A will return your weapons to you before you leave. Robin, hang back a moment. I'd like a word with you."

There was the scrapping of chairs and the shuffling of bodies as the Team, minus the Boy Wonder, all exited the briefing room. Black Canary followed to offer what help and support she could. Bruce waited until the count of ten after the door had been shut behind them to speak again.

"Stand-up."

Dick did as he was told.

He was so small. True, he was the youngest of the Team, only thirteen years old. But even for his age he was small. Short and skinny. He only came up to just below the curve of Batman's chest. Bruce placed a strong hand on the boy's shoulder and bent down to meet his partner on eye-level. With his other hand he reached into a pouch on his utility belt and pulled out a small lead box. It fit easily in the palm of his own hand, but when he passed it to Dick it looked so large and cumbersome in the petite boy's smaller hand.

"Take this." He said. "Just in case."

"What is it?" Dick lifted the lid to reveal a silver ring set with a bright green stone with a slight glow to it. "Your kryptonite ring! Why? You don't think Clark would…"

He let that unfinished question hang for a moment.

"Clark is not the only kryptonian in this universe." Was Bruce's cryptic explanation.

The boy looked confused. Then his deductive reasoning skills kicked in and his expression turned excited. Bruce might as well have just said flat out that Conner was alive. But then his logic took him that extra step and he arrived at the same conclusion Bruce had. His eyes turned downcast.

"Supey's an enemy now." He said. "That's how Clark was beaten so easily in the first place. He was fighting. Why didn't you tell the rest of the Team?"

Bruce straitened. Dick may be small, but he was smart and he was well trained. He didn't have to worry about his little bird. "I have no facts." The Batman explained. "Only theories. Still, its better to plan for every contingency. Its better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it."

Dick nodded, having heard his mentor and foster father say that frequently over the years. He replaced the lid on the ring-box and stowed it in a pouch on his own belt.

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Pain lanced through Clark's ears the moment Granny Goodness flipped that switch. A sound emanated from the visor she had pulled down over his head and was echoed and intensified by the nodes on his brow. Clark felt his body convulse at the sensation but there was little else he could do. His restraints held him fast so that all he could do was snarl in protest.

Then, seven beats into the sound, the vile melody, a second melody began. Exactly the same as the first only following slightly later in the secession. It was a canon. Clark gritted his teeth against the dissonant melody that wreaked havoc with his ears and placed a pressure in his head. It was a simple melody but a completed canon in which the melodies were designed for the imitation to occur different pitches –a canon at the second.

The pressure it caused on his head became more localized and he felt a… something brush against the outer barrier of his mind. No! What had the old Granny said? A counter-vibration? Maybe Clark could stop this, or at the very least slow it down if he caused a counter vibration of his own.

A third melody started up, turning it into a canon at the third, and Clark felt his outer barrier fray and break as the thing, whatever it was entered the surface most part of his mind. A place J'onn called his 'Outer Web'.

A counter-vibration… Clark began to hum. 'Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?'

It seemed to work, slightly. The pressure on his head eased. The thing, whatever it was, was no longer moving forward into his mind. But it hadn't retreated either. It was just… there. Halted but not retreating. Clark continued with his humming.

'Yes sir, yes sir. Three bags full… Up a above the world so high…' Wait that was a different song. It doesn't matter, the melody is the same, keep humming! 'Like a diamond in the sky… Baa baa black sheep…'

…

(somewhere between Earth and Watchtower)

April 1 – (irrelevant)

"That better be your pocket knife I'm sitting on." Artemis snarled.

"Huh? But I don't carry a pocket knife." Kid Flash blinked in confusion, only to realize all to late what the blond archer must be referring to.

The Batwing had been designed as a two-seater and so the Team had to share. Kaldur sat in the pilot seat in front with Robin on his lap so that the little bird had access to the controls. Wally with Artemis in his lap occupied the second seat and finally a small space behind the second seat that had been intended for storing equipment held a misshapen green glob that was M'gann in what was probably the oddest shape-shift the Team had seen her use yet.

Arty used the chair's arm rests to prop herself up enough for the young speedster to readjust himself.

"There!" He snapped.

She lowered herself back down into his lap. "You really are unbelievable. We're on our most badass mission yet and still all you can think about is sex!"

"Sorry, but that thing's got a mind of its own!" Snarled the Kid Flash. "You can't blame me for that when you're sitting right on it!"

"KF," Robin cut in. "Do you think we can save your lovers' spat until the missions over? This is my first time flying this thing and I'd kinda like to concentrate on it. Ya know, instead of setting us to drift in space forever or flying us into the sun."

The spitfire pair quieted down.

"There's Watchtower." The Boy Wonder nodded as the space station came into view. "Kaldur, there should be a switch to your left. Can you flip that for me? I can't quite reach over you." Aqualad flipped the switch that activated the Batwing's cloaking mode. "We should be invisible to there sensors now. I'll fly us around to the docking check-point."

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark lay awake on top of the homemade scrap-quilt that covered the narrow bed. Shortly after taking the Watchtower, he had claimed the Superman's former stateroom as his own. Mostly, just because he had wanted to but also in part because, out of all of the Leaguers' rooms, Kal-El's was the most 'homey'. They were all standard issue small rooms with standard issue narrow beds, but Kal-El had managed to make his seem so much more cozy and inviting.

He lay on the bed, resting but not sleeping, studying the patternless quilt on which he lay. He wondered if Kal had made it himself or if it had been a gift from some grateful victim he'd helped. Neither would surprise him. It was made of the small scraps of many different fabrics, no one patch was wider than three fingers or longer than six inches and none of them were any version of a 'regular' shape. The fabrics and patterns were just as eclectically diverse as their shapes were random; roosters over a backdrop of blue and brown home-spun cotton, paisley on wool, polyester power rangers… even some bits of solid blue fabric that Superboy-Dark would have sworn came from Kal-El's superman uniform.

He rolled over on the narrow bed, pulling the quilt around him. Not because he was cold, his kryptonian heritage ensured that he was comfortable in almost any temperature, but just because it felt nice to be completely enveloped by something soft and comforting. That was something that his two weeks on Apokolips had been lacking. Apokolips didn't really do 'cozy and comfy'. Not that he was complaining or anything. His two weeks on Apokolips had been well spent, honing his skills to be put to the service of Mighty Darksied, and there was no greater honor than being of service to Darksied.

Superboy-Dark was momentarily distracted from his musings by a… thunk.

There was no sound in space. Space was a vacuum, devoid of air which sounds needed in order to travel, so the 'thunk' had to have come from inside the station. The genomorph disentangled himself from Superman's quilt and rolled off the narrow bed to crouch on the floor. He honed his kryptonian hearing, filtering out the usual noise of the station and only focusing on what shouldn't be there.

Yes, there had been a small 'thunk' and now a faint scrapping, almost like… like landing treds scrapping over the hangar floor. The only problem was, the docking bay was on the opposite side of the station that the sound was coming from. That wasn't right.

Robin double-checked his instruments to make sure the Watchtower's oxygen levels, air pressure and temperature were still acceptable for humans before opening the Batwing's cockpit. The moment the hatch was open everyone all but leaped out, happy to be back in an open space and not cramped together like sardines. There was much signing and groaning as everyone stretched their muscles and cracked their backs.

"Miss Martian, please establish a telepathic link." Kaldur commanded in that impossibly polite way of his.

"Already done." M'gann nodded. They had been doing this for almost a year now. She knew what to do.

"Alright." The atlantian nodded. "Everyone knows what to do?"

They all nodded.

"Then let us go."


	10. Canon in E Flat

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark sat at the tiny desk in his commandeered quarters aboard the Watchtower. He studied the most recent sensor reading logs for the past half-hour. The silent brigadier general was fairly certain that the thunk and scrape he'd heard had been caused by something from outside the station softly bonking into it. Space was not, after all, completely devoid of debris. But according to the logs, the scanners showed nothing. That just didn't seem right.

He keyed his datapad to display a schematic of the station and studied its layout for a moment. He was sure that the noise had come from the anterior segment of the station on the opposite side from the hangar. The schematic showed that there was nothing there, but that was an awful lot of empty space to have for no perceivable reason, especially on a space station where room is valuable. Superboy-Dark decided that this merited a moment's investigation.

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

At the first available terminal, Robin jacked into the Watchtower's computer in order to locate the Superman. He learned that the Man of Steel was being held in one of the station's interrogation rooms and the five made their way. Taking the most direct rout they possibly could without running the risk of being caught by patrolling Parademons or other occupying Apokoliptans. That meant air ducts and the ventilation system.

"Great. Again!" Artemis grumbled as she crawled through the ducts. "I gotta say, for our first mission off-planet its not very 'welming'."

"You can always wait in the Batwing." Robin commented over his shoulder as he continued to crawl one-handed, his over arm held in front of him to display a map of the Watchtower. "You can be the first to test the XM radio from space. Though, I don't think you'd like Batman's pre-sets. His taste in music is… well, old."

"Ya know, you can call him 'Bruce' now, Richard." The archer commented. "We know who you are."

To this, the little bird said nothing.

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

The Superman's little humming trick had halted her implantation of the core psychic control, so Granny turned up the intensity, turning what was a canon at the third into a canon at the fourth. He gritted his teeth behind his closed lips but continued to hum. So, she turned it into a canon at the fifth.

Clark snarled, breaking his already frayed concentration and stopping his humming. He feel the thing, whatever it was, making its way through his outer barrier into his Outer Web. It was not a physical feeling, more like a psychic awareness that something wrong was invading his mind. He panted a moment or two to catch his breath and then took up the humming melody again.

Granny increased it to a canon at the sixth.

He snarled again. Then, only because he had his fair share of country sass he said between breaths, "What? Are you trying to torture me or somethin'?"

She gave a short mirthless laugh and pinched his cheek hard enough to bruise even his near-invulnerable kryptonian skin. "My, you're a cheeky boy."

Clark said nothing in response to that. Truth be told, he did not have the energy to banter with the bad guys at the moment. He shut his eyes to the woman and returned his efforts to trying to keep her mind-control at bay for as long as he could. If he knew Bruce, then the Batman was likely on his way to rescue the other half of the World's Finest. But if the Batman was waylaid and couldn't make it to the party… well then, at least he would have delayed their inevitable face off for as long as he possibly could.

Man! He hoped Bruce was on his way.

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

/'There's Uncle Supes.'/ Robin leaned back from the vent grate to give the others a look.

/'What's she doing to him?'/ Kid Flash stared at the alien woman as she continued to turn a dial on the controls. Each time she did so, Superman gave a snarl or grunt of pain.

/'Donno.'/ Admitted the Boy Wonder. He found a small access panel in the shaft and pried it open to reveal a small portion of the station's computer network. He jacked in with his wrist computer and began typing out code. /'Miss M, can you link Supes up with us? I'm gonna distract the old lady.'/

The martian girl's eyes glowed with the power of her telepathy for a moment, but then she blinked with unease. Turning back to her Team, her mentally explained, /'I can't get in. Its like how Conner was back when he was under their control. There's a block that's keeping me out.'/

/'Fantastic.'/ KF groaned. /'We came all this way just to rescue a new spy. Worst. Mission. Ever.'/

/'You don't know that.'/ Aqualad contested. /'There's so much about who was controlling Conner and how, that we can't allow ourselves to jump to that conclusion.'/

/'Heh, you sound like Batman.'/ Robin snorted. /'"There's no sense jumping to conclusions before all the evidence is in, Robin, all it does is shift the focus of your investigation."'/

He finished with whatever coding he had been working on and pressed the ENTER button on his wrist pad. In the interrogation room, Granny Goodness' attention shifted from the alien machinery she had set up, seemingly to torture Superman, and examined a small alert light that had just begun blinking yellow.

Superman groaned. "Heh, if you've got company, I can always come back some other time."

"Quiet, naughty boy." She snapped and turned the dial on her alien machine one more time.

Superman snarled and groaned but said nothing more. In fact, it sounded almost like he was trying to… hum? The hell? The Granny glanced at the blinking light once before signing in what might have been exasperation and exiting the room.

The others turned to Robin. /'What is that?'/

/'Just a small alert-light.'/ He shrugged. /'They're used for calling Leaguers away from interrogations without cluing in the one being interrogated as to why. They were Batman's idea.'/

/'Of course they were.'/ Kid Flash sighed.

/'How often does the League end-up interrogating people up here?'/ Asked Artemis.

Robin did not answer. Instead he kicked out the vent's grill and, using one of his bat-cables, lowered himself to the floor. Clark lifted his eyes at the commotion and watched the boy, followed by the rest of the kids' Team, slowly file out of the vent. Bruce had sent the kids? What on Earth could have possessed him to send children into such a dangerous situation just to rescue him?

Robin studied the alien controls for a moment before (purely on a guess) putting his hand to the dial the old woman had been turning and twisting it in the opposite direction. Clark sighed as the dissonant melody began to recede. Turning from a canon at the seventh, to a canon at the sixth, the fifth, fourth, third, second, just a single melody and then it was gone. His whole body sagged with relief, his weight supported by nothing more than the terillium-carbon manacles that still restrained him.

He took a moment to catch his breath before asking, "What in the name of Rao's fiery corona are you kids doing here!"

/'Well, that's gratitude for ya.'/ Wally scoffed. To Superman he said, "C'mon, Uncle Supes, don't you recognize a rescue when you see one?"

Robin fiddled with the alien control panel some more until Superman's restraints were released and he fell, undignified, to his knees. Climbing back to his feet, Clark massaged his wrists where the cuffs had cut into them and flexed his fingers, trying to work the blood back into them.

"But you're just kids." The Man of Steel shook his head. "It was irresponsible of Batman to send you. " A pause. "Please tell me Batman did send you and you didn't just steal a Javelin and rush off on your own?"

"No, we did not steal a Javelin, whatever that is." Artemis huffed and thrust her hands on her hips.

"My distraction isn't gonna keep the old lady busy forever." Robin reminded them. "Remember the mission: Get Supes and get out. Lets go."

Everyone else nodded.

M'gann stepped toward Superman. "The resistance is gone, I'm gonna link you to the rest of us now."

"No." Clark hissed quickly. "She did something to my mind. I don't know what -exactly. But I don't want to risk being linked to any of you if it turns out they can control me like they did Kon-El."

All five teens exchanged equal expressions of unease.

/'I knew it.'/ Wally flashed Kaldur an 'I told you so' look.

/'What do we do now?'/ Asked Artemis. /'Should be take a possible spy back to Mr. Wayne's cave?'/

/'We have to.'/ Robin was sober and ever so slightly grim. /'It would be a million times more dangerous to leave him here. With everything he knows…'/

Once again the five exchanged a single unifying uneasy look.

"Alright, Uncle Supes," Robin said aloud. "Lets get going."

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark had been making his way to the unmarked segment on the station's schematic when he heard something knew, like creatures crawling in the walls. An infestation of space-rats, maybe? That was silly. But he definitely heard something moving in the walls, several somethings, actually.

He closed his eyes and focused his hearing on the new suspicious sound. They were in the walls and slightly up. The air ducts, maybe? And there was definitely more than one. Honing his hearing, he could detect five distinct pairs of… knees? hands? scrapping through the ducts. Had they come aboard the station with the mysterious thunk? Or was this unrelated? No, there were no coincidences in an invasion. He turned around and instead began following the sounds in the walls.

He was not tracking them long before Superboy-Dark realized where they were heading -the interrogations rooms, and there was only one interrogation room in use at the moment. That of Kal-El, Superman, his genetic-parent. He suppressed a silent snarl of defensive alarm. Whoever had infiltrated the station and was moving through the ducts intended to steal his father from him! Superboy-Dark was not going to let that happen!

Superboy-Dark turned back the way he had come. However they had gotten on the station, it was clear that they had landed either in or on the anterior aspect of the station. Probably in that blank space on the schematic. That meant that their vehicle was probably still there and if they needed it to get onto the Watchtower then chances were they needed it to get back off it as well. He would cut off their escape.

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

The six of them sprinted through the corridors of Watchtower heading back to the landing bay Batman designed as a 'back door' should they ever need one. Oh, Bruce, you plan for everything. We're so happy your one of the good guys.

They ran into one patrol of Parademons, but the Team with the help of Superman dispatched them with only a moderate struggle. They continued their jog towards the hangar but all six of them skidded to a halt at who they found waiting there, blocking their path.

"Tan shed awukh za." He said. –'Nobody's going anywhere.'

This statement went ignored, however, as five pairs of eyes went wide with astonishment upon seeing him.

"Supey!"

"Conner!"

"The hell are you doing here?"

He was pounced upon by Kid Flash, Miss Martian and Artemis. Not violently so, in that moment, they did not perceive him as an enemy and Superboy-Dark, for his part, was so shocked to find the infiltrators were his former Team that he was at a loss as to how to react. He stood for a moment, frozen with indecision as the girls and Wally draped themselves around him with affection. He heard the beating of KF's heart; it had always been a bit faster than the others', felt Artemis' warm breath against the chest plate of his battle suit, and inhaled the intoxicating scent of M'gann's hair.

Kaldur and Robin hung back from the others, the atlantian gaping in shock while the Boy Wonder's eyes narrowed in suspicion, one hand drifting into a back pocket of his belt and closing around the leaded ring-box Bruce had given him.

"Guys…" He began a warning but wasn't sure what exactly to say.

"Back away from him slowly." Clark's voice was that of strong but quiet command –his 'Superman voice', a watered-down and family-friendly version of Bruce's 'Batman voice'. Robin had heard it often, but this was a first for the rest of the Team.

The three glanced back at the Man of Steel in confusion.

It was then that Superboy-Dark made any sort of move, though it was not the move either Clark or Robin had feared he might make. No. He wrapped an arm around the martian girl's waist and pulled her flush against him. Taking her chin in his other hand, the Boy of Steel tilted her face upwards and leaned down to mash his lips against hers in an aggressive and sloppy kiss.

Alarm reverberated through M'gann's psychic thread. That was not the way Conner kissed, at least, that was not the way the Conner she knew kissed. Her Conner's kisses were heated but hesitant, as if there was a deep and raging tide of feeling and desire within him that he was striving to hold back for fear harming her in his fervor. But this Conner, this other Superboy that held her now, that currently had his mouth locked with hers was… cold. The kiss was aggressive and demanding, but there was no heat behind it. No passion or eager enthusiasm.

The others backed off. M'gann also tried to pull away but he held her firm. She shifted her form, her body becoming as in substantial as water in his arms and the martian girl melted from his locked embrace, retreating back to her Team. When her 'base form' rematerialized, the back of her hand was to her mouth, as if trying to wipe away the feel of him.

"That's not Conner." She hissed.

"Did his tonsils give it away?"

For that the Kid Flash received a smack on the shoulder from Artemis accompanied by a, "Not the time!"

Superboy-Dark offered her a lopsided grin, "Ta, shod-zhaol i skilor?" –'Surely you recognize your lover?' Then his focus shifted to the Superman. "Ukr-kah, ewor zhed." –'Father, tell them.'

"What'd he say?"

Clark suppressed the urge to groan. This was just getting ridiculous. He clearly understood English, there was no reason why he shouldn't be able to speak it as well. Unless he was under the influence of that one piece of red-K that had prevented Clark from communicating in any other language but Kryptonese. But that particular chunk was locked-up in his Fortress, so that couldn't be the reason. But whatever it was, now was not the time to be agonizing over it.

"Step aside, Kon."

He did not. Instead, Superboy-Dark assumed a fighting pose and glared hostilely at the assembled half-dozen.

"We don't have time for this." Robin growled. He pulled Bruce's kryptonite ring from his belt and jammed the large ring onto his middle finger. It was his largest digit but the silver band of the ring was still loose on his hand and the Wonder Boy closed his hand into a tight fist to keep it from slipping.

Clark felt the telltale dizziness the moment Dick withdrew his hand from his belt. He didn't need to look to see that Bruce had given his little bird the ring. The Superman placed a hand against the nearest wall to steady himself and chance a glance at his clone. Kon-El looked to also have felt the effects instantly, but there was no recognition on his face, he didn't know what the dizziness meant.

Robin rushed forward and landed one solid punch to Superboy-Dark's stomach. No where near as hard as the kryptonian-genomorph was used to being punched, but then, with kryptonite on your side it didn't take much. Really, a light tap would have been enough. Kon-El dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. He glared up at the Boy Wonder with mingled disbelief and loathing accented with a generous helping of pain.

"Ta-?" He groaned.

"Sorry, Supey." A second punch to the side of the face had Superboy-Dark laying on the ground at Robin's feet. Not unconscious, but unmoving non-the-less. His crystal blue eyes sparkled with confused disorientation as glanced around wildly.

Poor Kon, between the standard light-headed effects of kryptonite and the blows Dick had just given him, he probably had no idea what was going on. Clark wanted to go to him; to place a hand on the boy's head and tell him everything was going to be okay, but he didn't dare take a step near Robin while that ring was out and in play.

Robin stepped over the KO'd kryptonian and pressed the door release for the back-door hangar. "Lets go, people."

The other four kids on the Team rushed into the hangar, Clark hung back. "I wanna take him, too."

Robin nodded. Conner was his friend and wanted to see him removed from the enemy camp as well. "He doesn't come back to the Batcave, though."

Clark nodded his understanding. Dick fished back in his belt for the ring's box and Clark gave a sigh as the leaded box was closed around the silver ring. The Boy Wonder disappeared into the hangar; Clark knelt down and lifted Kon-El into his arms then followed the little bat-bird.

"You took the Batwing!" He paused in the doorway. "Are you sure Bats actually sent?"

"Yes." Robin said over his shoulder, voice dripping with exasperation. "Batman sent us and let us take the Batwing."

"I don't think we're all gonna fit." Artemis called from where she and Kid Flash were already crawling into the cockpit's second seat. There was no doubt about it, there was no way Clark and Conner would fit in that plane along with everyone else.

"Not a problem." The Superman assured them.

He set Superboy-Dark down and walked over to a wall panel that opened up to reveal an ordinary equipment cabinet. From this he pulled two oxygen masks, designed to fit over the nose and mouth but leave the face otherwise unobscured. He fit one on himself before taking a second and walking back to the still prostrate Kon-El. But the moment he knelt down to fit the mask on the still seemingly disoriented boy, Superboy-Dark grabbed Clark by the back of the neck and head butted him hard in the forehead.

Both men grunted from the force of the blow, Clark staggering backwards, Conner slumping back down. The ring was back on Robin's hand in an instant but before he could cross the room to where the two Supers stood, Clark held up a hand.

"No." He said, his breath causing the mask over his nose and mouth to fog slightly every time he spoke. "Just get in the plane and make sure the cabin is sealed."

"But-" The little bird protested.

"Just do it!" Superman snapped.

Kaldur sat in the front pilot seat and Robin hopped into his lap, M'gann shifted into her most space-efficient form possible and took-up her place in the small storage behind the second seat, KF and Artemis were already situated. Closed and sealed the cockpit.

"What is he thinking?" Asked Aqualad once they were sealed in air tight.

"Probably something 'super'." Answered the little bird in the same way some people say 'something stupid'.

Superboy-Dark climbed to his feet and glared at the Superman. For a moment it looked as if Clark was going to forget all plans of escape and just go ahead and duke it out with his clone instead. They both assumed fighting stances and began to circle one another slowly. But when the main bay door release came into the Superman's field of vision, he shifted his focus from the boy facing him to the control panel behind him and let loose a light blast of heat vision.

The small hangar suddenly became a vacuum as the bay door was opened and everything inside was suddenly sucked out into freezing space, Batwing and kryptonians included. Superboy-Dark's eyes went wide with horrified shock and he grabbed madly at the smooth surface of the hangar's floor in an effort to keep from being sucked out, his nails making long but shallow streaks on the steel panels as he was pulled. It seemed that in addition to missing the memo about kryptonite he'd also missed the memo that he could survive just fine in outer space provided he had oxygen of some sort.

Superman wrapped one arm around the boy's mid-section while his other hand jammed the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. "You'll be fine."

With only the slightest of kicks, Clark pulled Kon-El off of the makeshift handholds he'd carved into the floor and the two of them were suddenly free-floating in space. Superman took a moment to reorient them, with Earth as 'down' and the Batwing as 'ahead'. There was no uniform directionality in space, you had to make it up as you went along. 'Down' was usually whatever direction gravity pulled, but if you were at a Lagrangian point where there was no gravity or if multiple gravitational forces were acting on you at once, you had to improvise and make the call yourself.

At the moment they were still within the boundaries of the L1 point in which there were no gravitational forces acting on them. So, Clark chose Earth as 'down'. It seemed the intuitive thing to do.

Of course there were other schools of thought. Looking 'ahead' at the Batwing, Robin seemed to have chosen to orient himself with Earth as 'slightly up and to the left on an axis of 34 degrees'. Clark suppressed a smile of amusement; space travel took some getting used to. He tapped the communicator built into the chin of his oxygen mask and asked, "Need a little help there?"

"I've got it." The Boy Wonder's voice came over the channel, sounding a little preoccupied. Two small thrusters on one wing set the bat-shaped convertible plane-space shuttle into a slow spiral. Robin cursed.

"Laws of motion, kiddo." Clark reminded him.

Robin activated the thrusters on the other wing and that stopped the spiral for a moment or two, until he pushed the thrust that extra little bit that sent the plane spiraling in the opposite direction. Ah, space. Ain't it great. "Not. One. Word."

"I didn't say anything."

"How's Supey." Just to change the subject.

Clark looked at the boy he still held by the mid-section. He was wide-eyed staring wildly in every direction as if in a panic and breathing heavily enough as to approach hyperventilation. "Scared witless." The Superman assessed. "With all their brain-washing and mind tinkering I guess they forgot to mention to him that he could survive in space just fine."

Clark turned the boy to face him so that he could see how calm he was and know that there was nothing to be scared off. Kon-El just stared at him wide-eyed, but his breathing began to calm. Clark released his grip on the boy's waist to give him a bit more space, but the moment Kon-El felt himself begin to drift he clawed madly trying to get back to Superman. He flailed his arms madly, looking rather much like someone drowning out of water. He got a hold on Clark's wafting red cape and pulled himself flush against the Man of Steel's back, wrapping both arms and legs around him.

'Wow…' Clark thought. 'And just a few moments ago he seemed like such a big tough bad-guy.'

He reached a hand up to pat the boy on the head. This was probably the most uncomfortable he'd ever been in space and that's including the time he and Lobo teamed-up for a little while.

…

Watchtower

April 1 – (irrelevant)

A high-pitched alarm trilled and the whole bridge was filled with red and yellow flashing lights and Lashina and her Furies were at a loss to interpret them all.

Loss of pressure in anterior landing bay/ She didn't know the station had a second landing bay. Bay door non-responsive/ Manual closure required/

Station wide oxygen levels dropping/ Seal-off compromised segments recommended/ Oxygen levels at 85% of normal/ 78%/ 71% 64%/…

The Ribbon Warrior studied the Earthling controls and punched, what she hoped, was the correct sequence of buttons and dials that sealed off the air circulation in the station. There was no airflow at all now, each segment of the station had its own air, but nothing was traveling through the carbon-scrubbers and back again. It was not a solution, but it at least gave her the time to figure out what the hell had happened.

"Speed Queen, do a quick check of the ship!" She ordered. The Apokoliptan speedster was quick to follow. "Guilatina come over here and start running diagnostics. Hariet-" a pause "-just stay out of the way. I'm going to figure out where the hell Blue Eyes is."

She left the bridge and dashed through the corridors towards the cabin the kryptonian-genomorph had claimed as his own. She typed in the short key-code that opened the door, the tall panel slid aside to reveal an empty room. So much for that. There was only one other place on the station he could be and that was the Superman's interrogation room. …And then with crystal clarity the reason behind this sudden emergency became clear. Blue Eyes was supposed to kill him, instead he brought him home and asked if he could keep him. Obviously, the Superman had found a way to escape and do some damage to their captured base while he was at it.

She slammed the door back and dashed back to the bridge.

"Scramble the Parademons!" She ordered.

…

Space (somewhere between Watchtower and Earth)

April 1 – (irrelevant)

"We've got company." Robin's voice crackled over Clark's comm.

The Man of Steel glanced ahead to when the Batwing had finally righted itself but saw nothing. He turned to look behind him and saw the 'company' Batman's bird-boy was talking about. Parademons. Two dozen of them. Great.

He tried shifting Kon-El's hold on him to something that would allow for more mobility. But the boy refused to budge. Clark gritted his teeth in annoyance. He looked from the on-coming Parademons to the Batwing and tapped his comm.

"Robin, you can't pilot that thing in a combat." He said. "Take it in and let me handle our company."

"What about Conner?"

"I'll handle Kon-El, too."

Speaking of the young mister Superboy-Dark, he was finally beginning to calm down enough to realize that he could breath, hadn't frozen to death, his body was still pressurized and his blood hadn't boiled out of his ears. He may not be able to fly, or in this setting, propel himself by his own power as his genetic-parent could, but he hadn't gone spinning off into the void either. His zero gravity hysteria subsided enough for him to find the button that controlled the comm on his oxygen mask.

"Zierdah, Ukr-kah." He said. "Kao-zhgam bim Watchtower khap." –'Give-up, father, and return to Watchtower with me.'

"Don't start with me, Kon." He growled. Clark was in no mood to put-up with offers to join the dark side. They hadn't sounded appealing in a James Earl Jones voice and they sounded even less appealing coming from a melancholy and brainwashed teenager.

The Parademons surrounded them.

Superboy-Dark pushed off from Superman's back, latched onto the Parademon closest to him and swung himself around it to spend the rest of his momentum before coming to a halt. Well, he certainly learned how to move in zero-G without a flight ability rather fast. He hung there's suspended in the vacuum, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Noveneh kol-sof." –'This is your last chance.'

Clark only glared at the boy.

Superboy-Dark raised his hand high above his head. The Parademons turned their attention to their commander. Kon-El's arm fell. The Parademons swarmed Clark.

…

Earth's Exosphere

April 1 – (irrelevant)

"You're not just gonna leave him there, are you?" Kid Flash twisted in his seat to try and look behind them at where Superman was fighting a squad of Parademons, but no matter which way he turned he couldn't seem to see around Artemis.

Robin kept a firm grip on his controls. "I've seen Supes play ping-pong with asteroids," (actually he only heard about it from the Lanterns, but it was an awesome game) "if he wants to win and come back to the Batcave, then he'll win and come back to the Batcave. If not… then there was no point in us trying to rescue him in the first place."

"Remember what Batman said," Kaldur calmly cut in. "It is more important that we all come back than we bring him back."

"Then what was the point of this mission?" Artemis crossed her arms over her chest.

Robin said nothing, instead focusing his attention on the plane's re-entry.

…

Space (somewhere between Watchtower and Earth)

April 1 – (irrelevant)

'Didn't I just leave this party?' Clark thought as he grappled with Parademons commanded by his clone.

First an onslaught of the creatures at his Fortress, then a match with Kon-El in the desert, and now here he was facing a combined force of both of them out in space. Well, not really a combined force. Superboy-Dark might be a quick study in the field of zero-G maneuverability (once he got over his initial panic) but without a flight ability he didn't have the freedom of movement necessary to partake of a real combat.

Clark considered his options.

He was fast and he was strong, much father and much stronger than the genomorph and much faster than the Parademons. He could quickly grab Kon then zoom back to Earth before the Parademons knew what had happened. But once they got back to Earth, where would he take the boy? His Fortress was overrun, the Cave had been sealed and Bruce would never admit the boy into the Batcave while under the control of the enemy.

Reluctantly, Clark had to admit that, while he wanted to, taking the boy was not a practical move right now. Not until they found a way to undo his mind control. There was only one course of action open to the Man of Steel now, and loath though he was to do it, he took it.

He ran.

…

Batcave

April 1 – 11:20 pm

Robin guided the Batwing into the concealed hangar, taxied to a full-stop and then popped the cockpit. Everyone jumped out from the plane, just as eager to get out of the cramped cabin as they had been back on Watchtower.

"What was the whole point of that?" Artemis growled as she cracked her back.

"Yeah, really." Kid Flash seconded. "We bust him out of that weird alien torture rack thingy just to let him go right back in to cover our escape?"

"That's what Superman does." Robin huffed. "He's like the grand captain of self-sacrifice. …And sanctimonious speeches. But mostly self-sacrifice."

"What's he done this time?"

Five heads turned to see Batman standing in the doorway to the hangar, arms crossed over his chest.

In a bout of unprofessional teenism, all five of them launched into an explanation all at once. The hangar was not a briefing room as so they had no reason to assume the Dark Knight had wanted an official debrief. He held up a hand for silence. "Perhaps I was unclear in what I asked." He said. "One of you, please explain to me what stupid and ultimately pointless self-sacrifice the Big Blue Boy Scout's made this time?"

Before anyone could take up the task of answering this time, they were all given pause by a tell-tale sonic boom and then a moment later the afore mentioned Big Blue Boy Scout was floating into the hangar.

"Hey, Bats." He said in the kind of forced chipper voice that he usually reserved for pulling people from burning buildings, rescuing victims from natural disasters and dealing with Lois Lane.

"Apparently none." Robin commented dryly.

"What are we talking about?"

"The Team was about to debrief me on their mission."

That spurred the Superman. "Bats can I speak with you alone?"

The rest of the Team exchanged that same look of unease.

The Batman nodded, then turning to the rest of the Team said, "Okay, I have a new mission for you."

"Already?" All five, plus the Superman, asked in unison.

The Dark Knight nodded. "You are to follow Robin out of the cave and into the house. He's to take you into the media room and you are to all play Just Dance 2 until at least one of you has beaten Superman's score for each song."

They blinked at him.

"Well, get going."

…

Batcave

April 2 – 12:00 am

"Okay, Clark, explain this to me again and please, try not to sound like a duttering hippy this time around." Bruce groaned with exasperation and slumped down in his chair. The Dark Knight pulled his half-empty coffee cup towards him and wondered how many more he'd have to drink before he was forced to resort to stronger stimulants to get him through tonight.

"Like a hippy?" The Man of Steel blinked. "How is saying that they use a counter tone to the natural melody of a person's place in the universe sounding like a hippy?"

Bruce paused. Decided that any answer to that question should have been self-explanatory and obvious and so remained silent. He drained his coffee mug, stood, refilled it, sat back down, looked at Clark. The Superman just looked right back, still expecting an answer.

"Seriously?" He finally said. "You don't see how 'the music of the universe' is hippyish? How are we friends?"

Clark opened his mouth to answer.

"Rhetorical!" The Dark Knight added quickly. "Lets stay on point. You say that Granny told you she's controlling Conner and tried to control you by using a counter melody that canceled out your-" he cringed "'natural melody'. So, then, to change him back to normal, we just need to fine a 'natural melody' for his existence."

"Oh, is that all?" Clark scoffed in a bout of uncharacteristic pessimism.

Bruce stood and chugged his coffee. Yeah, he would be needing something a bit stronger to get through tonight. "Wanna help me conduct an experiment?"

"Are you actually asking or is this one of those 'you have no choice in the matter but I'm phrasing it as a question anyway to put you at ease' things that you do?"

"Yes." He exited the debriefing room.

"That wasn't a 'yes' or 'no' question." Clark followed after him.

"Yes."

"Now you're just being difficult."

Bruce led him through the main room, passed the Batcomputer's monitor array to where J'onn had been meditating against a far wall and out of the way. He opened his eyes as they neared. "Yes?"

"That theory I mentioned back in February," Bruce began. "Its time to test it."

J'onn stood.

"What theory?" Asked Clark.

"Follow." The Batman beckoned to them both.

The two aliens followed the Dark Knight back across the main chamber, but it was not to the debriefing room that they returned. Instead, Bruce made a sharp turn behind his giant penny and led them to his weapons cabinets, the place where he stored most of the assorted paraphernalia that filled his utility belt. But it was not baterangs and smokebombs that he had come to grab. He walked down the line until he had reached the end cabinet, where he kept his 'single focus' or 'single use' items. From this cabinet he withdrew… a crystal.

"Hey, that's mine!"

"I know, you lent it to Robin last month."

It was the audiocrystal crystal that had given Conner a piercing headache so strong it had reduced him to whimpering on the floor. It produced an effect on the boy's mind that, according to J'onn, the psychic 'receiver' that had been implanted in him was highly averse to.

"I don't know what you plan to do with that." Clark crossed his arms over his chest. "Kryptonian crystal-tech isn't compatible with anything you've got here."

"Oh, ye of little faith." Bruce sighed.

…

Batcave

April 2 – 1:15 am

The scientific method is a body of techniques used for investigating phenomena, acquiring new knowledge, correcting and integrating previous knowledge, or just general problem solving. In its simplest form, the scientific method could be broken down into six easy steps; those of, observation, defining a problem, forming a hypothesis, testing or evidence gathering, either rejecting or retaining your hypothesis based on the results of your experiments or evidence gathered and finally, forming a theory.

(From the Batman's Case Logs)

'Observation 1: Conner Kent, the Superboy, fell under the enemy's thrall whenever he heard a particular signal on a frequency only kryptonians can hear.

'Observation 2: Upon hearing a particular track of a kryptonian audiocrystal, the foreign presence in his mind henceforth called the 'enemy receiver' reacted strongly and violently.

'Problem: Superboy is under enemy mind-control. Said mind control, based upon the above observations appears to be at least somewhat music-based. Certainly it an auditory form of control.

'Hypothesis: J'onn's account of Superboy's mind would imply that Clark's kryptonian symphony music can be used to combat the 'enemy receiver' that is allowing them to control the boy. It stands to reason that prolonged exposure to the string segment of the second track could possibly cleanse the mind of all enemy control. The possible side-effects of this, however, cannot be foreseen.

'Test: Clark admits to the enemy puppet-master, Granny Goodness, having attempted to place him under mind-control as well. He fears that she may have succeeded. After an examination by J'onn it is found that he does, indeed, have an 'enemy receiver' in his mind as well now. However, while Superboy's had been placed in the 'core' of his psyche, Clark's seems to have been halted just at the edge of his mind. It is possible that playing the audiocrystal repeatedly might force the 'enemy receiver' from Clark's mind. If the experiment proves successful, the process could be repeated on Superboy.

'-Variables: Music's volume and balance, signal intensity, subject's resistance, signal layering'

"Bruce, you scare me sometimes."

Clark leaned over to examine a crude but functional looking crystalplayer. It wasn't kryptonian crystal, of course, it looked mostly to be made of glass with a bit of quartz thrown in here and there, and the innards were definitely metal –copper wiring and such. But it looked like it would play music and the audiocrystal fit in it perfectly. Now the question became, could the thing actually read it and convert the imprinted information into sound?

Either way it was still impressive that Bruce had managed to construct this in a month. McGyver much.

"Aw…" The Dark Knight feigned being flattered. "Complements will get you experimented on."

"And here I thought it was because I'm an alien."

"Not tonight, at least, not directly. But I call dibs on your body if you die!"

"You just took a turn into Creepysville."

Bruce was about to reply but J'onn cut him off before he had the chance. "If we could proceed."

Clark forced himself to relax. J'onn placed his hands on the man's temples and did a cursory examination of his Outer Web before the experiment formally began. Aside from the foreign presence currently floating there, the landscape of his mind remained much the same as it had appeared to the Martian Manhunter the last time he had mind-linked with the man, which had been a considerable time ago.

Bruce fitted the audiocrystal into his makeshift crystalplayer and pressed the play button.

Nothing happened.

Clark gave a snort.

"Not. One. Word." The Dark Knight growled.

"Didn't you try it out before tonight?" Obviously the Superman wasn't intimidated by a flustered Batman. "I mean, you did have the crystal this whole time."

"Clark, if I wanted your input I'd ask for it. Now, I invite you to shut it while I figure this out."

Clark smiled.

J'onn sighed.

Bruce examined his machine. He pressed the stop button, the play again; when nothing continued to happen he turned the machine off and pulled the crystal out and then put it back in exactly how it was. Turned it back on, pressed play, nothing. Giggled the crystal in its place, nothing. Hit the machine a few times, nothing. Bruce grew frustrated.

Clark continued to smile.

Bruce got an idea. He picked the crystal back up, flipped it the other way around and then put it back in. Pressed the play button. The orchestra warming up their instruments filled the room.

Clark still didn't say anything.

"Ya know, you could have just told me I had it in backwards."

"I'm sorry." He smiled. "I was busy RSVPing my invitation to 'shut-it'."

The Batman snarled with exasperation and skipped the orchestra's warm-up to dive right into the first movement. Music filled the living area, soft and slow at first but climbing in tempo. Beginning with low wind instruments first, a combination of woodwinds and a metal flute similar to Earth's oboe (though, obviously not made from the same material). They set the melody, but as cadence continued to climb, the winds were joined by moderate percussion, not to bold but just enough to meld into the rest of the melody. …And then the strings took-up the melody.

Clark groaned and leaned forward, placing a hand to his head.

"It's reacting?" Asked the Batman.

"The enemy's 'receiver' is agitated." J'onn confirmed. "But it does not appear to be reseeding from his mind."

"The old woman…" Clark groaned. "She… used a canon."

Martian and man exchanged equel looks of confusion over the kryptonian's bowed head. They were pretty sure he didn't mean she fired a literal canon at his head. Didn't the term have some other meaning within the context of music? Bruce pulled out his phone, his normal civilian cell phone. They had an app for that. They had an app for everything.

Terminology of Music – "canon" n. a piece in which the same melody is begun in different parts successively, so that the imitations overlap.

Pff. He could totally do that. Just hook the makeshift kryptonian player up to his own sound system and play the same track with a thirty second delay. Easy. …And with a bit more tinkering, it was done. They had turned the melody into a canon at the second.

The sensation in Clark's head intensified and he let out yelp of pain.

J'onn continued a to monitor the Superman's mind. Waves of angry dissonance reverberated from the presence on Clark's Outer Web. It seemed almost like whatever it was were trying to push the sound or maybe the sensations it caused out of the his mind. It sent ripples undulating across the web, the small shockwaves crashed on and were stopped by the inner barrier that separated Clark's Inner Web from his Outer one, so there was at least no danger on that front. But J'onn feared that under higher intensities it would rip Clark's Outer Web apart.

Bruce fed the melody through a third speaker, turning it into a canon at the third.

The violence of the enemy receiver's presence intensified, but now J'onn could detect it… fizzling, almost as if it were beginning to dissolve. "It's working."

Bruce turned it to a canon at the fourth.

Clark was on his knees on the floor now, J'onn bent over him, determined to keep a close vigil on his friend's condition. The fizzling became more apparent, yes, the thing was definitely beginning to dissolve now. But it was also wreaking havoc on Clark's Outer Web. Surface thoughts and short-term memories were being torn and destroyed by the presences attempts to fight back.

Bruce turned it into a canon at the fifth.

Clark's knees collapsed under him, no longer able to support himself. He lay on the ground, screaming.

It was dissolving faster now, it was almost gone. But it would take a good portion of Clark's Outer Web with it. Surface thoughts, passing thoughts and a good deal of short-term memory. He probably wouldn't remember anything that happened today. J'onn hoped Bruce had gotten all the information he needed or that he could from him because it would be gone after this.

Bruce turned it to a canon at the sixth.

The Superman's screams reverberated off the walls of the cave and J'onn wondered if it had been a good idea to attempt this underground. But then, rather abruptly, it was over. The thing was gone and, as Conner had said almost two months ago, once it was over it was like it never happened. Except this time there was evidence of its happening. There were great gaping holes in Clark's Outer Web, thoughts he no longer had, memories he'd never got back. Thankfully, his natural mental barriers had protected his Inner Web and his Chalice, but what would have happened if the 'receiver' had been closer to his center rather than simply the peripheral? What would happen to Conner?

Clark lay unconscious on the floor.

J'onn looked up at the Batman and Bruce met his eyes.

"So, ya wanna help me carry two-hundred and thirty-five pounds of kryptonian dumbass up three flights of stairs?"


	11. Fragmented

Apokolips 

2 Weeks Ago…

Superboy stepped out of the Boom Tube and was escorted by Granny Goodness into a world that could only be described in one four letter word: 'Hell'.

The sky was a darkened kaleidoscope of crimsons and violets tinted with brown and gray by plumes of ash and soot thrown into the air by erupting shafts that spewed fire from the very core of the planet itself. This was Apokolips, home of the New Gods of Anti-Life, realm of the Great and Powerful Darksied –his master. It was the first time since his creation that Superboy had ever set foot on the planet, the first time he'd ever actually seen it (Dreamer's short exposition of the place not included). It was terrible, and it was beautiful. Dark and yet full of vivid colors. Dead and yet coursing with power.

The Tube had let them out on a landing of sorts and Granny led him through a wide rounded doorway into a labyrinth of passageways. Parademons patrolled the corridors but they stopped, pressing themselves to the walls and saluting, as the old woman passed. This place must be important, to have Parademons patrolling the corridors. Then they reached their destination.

Granny led the Superboy into the throne room for an audience with none other than the Mighty Darksied himself!

Superboy reacted instantly upon finding himself in the god's presence. He dropped to his knees, one fist to the ground in front of him the other across his chest. The proper kneeling position for humbling one's self before the Great Darksied. The Superboy silently offered his submission.

The mighty ruler of Apokolips gave a small chuckle; it was a deep mirthless sound that seemed to rumble up as if from the very pits of Apokolips itself. "I see he already knows his place."

Darksied's eyes glowed with crimson fire as he regarded the Superboy that knelt before him. Superboy, for his part did not move, he did not rise; he did not lift his head; he did not speak. His master had not given him leave to do so and so he remained as he was. Obedient. Patient. Quiet.

…

Apokolips

1 Week and 5 Days Ago…

DeSaad, Apokoliptan scientist, chief torturer and member of Darksied's Elite regarded the boy that Granny had brought back with her from Earth. The boy lay dormant, in a trance, suspended in a stasis pod while the Good Granny tinkered with his mind. Extrapolating the necessary data, deleting useless programming or rewriting certain memories to give his perceptions of them a different slant.

"Look at this." Granny huffed, indicating a read-out in front of her. "What possible purpose would teaching him ancient Earth history possibly serve? I understand recent events and political climate, that's perfectly relevant and has military applications. But ancient history…"

She wiped the programming.

"You're a woman of stark practicality, Granny." DeSaad commented dryly. "How much are you changing of our little Earth-grown weapon's programming?"

"'Our' weapon?" She raised one thick white eyebrow. "This weapon belongs to Darksied. I'm just honing it for him. And to answer your question, I'm just making a few tweaks here and there."

"That might cause some problems later on if you end up coding it wrong." The Apokoliptan scientist warned. "Better let me do it."

"T'ch, and allow you to steal all the glory for your self." She scoffed. "I'm not so old as to be taken in by your transparent attempts to usurp Darksied's favor, DeSaad. Girls," the Female Furies seemed to materialize as if from the very shadows themselves, "please see the man out."

When he was gone, the Granny turned her attention back to the boy she was working on. "All you need to do is kill the Superman and the rest of the Earth's champions. You don't need to know anything else."

…

Apokolips

1 Week and 3 Days Ago…

Superboy stood at parade rest, his feet parted slightly, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes forward, attention focused on the large wide screen before him.

Images played before his eyes, to fast for a human to register and comprehend, but then, Superboy wasn't human now was he. They seemed random, battles between alien races over a cosmos away, kittens from Earth playing with a cardboard box, trees falling, lighting striking, bombs dropping, water flowing, blood spurting, flowers opening, spaceships, spiders, soldiers, sages, super-novas, splitting atoms… random images, but all having an underlying element of 'violence' behind them, of action and power.

All the while, voices played in his ears…

'Strength comes from obedience to Darksied.'

'Deceit in the service of Darksied is honorable.'

'Power comes from submission to Darksied.'

'Savagery in the service of Darkside is noble.'

…

Apokolips

1 Week Ago…

Superboy silently dodged the thrust Gilotina had aimed at his mid-section, jumping back and to the side to avoid her sharp, blade-like, hand.

His dodge, however, sent him backing into Mad Harriet whom, laughing with maniacal glee, tangled herself up in his legs and caused the young weapon to stumble and fall. The mad woman was on top of him then, straddling his thighs and continuing to cackle as her claws racked the chest-plate of his battle suit. He snarled back at her and brought his fist up to collide with the side of her face. The Fury was dazed and he shoved her off of him to reclaim a standing position.

No sooner was the Superboy back on his feet, however, than Lashina's whips were wrapped around him. The flat but strong bands rendering him momentarily immobile. It was in the moment of immobility, as he stood wondering how best to hand the situation that Speed Queen began an offensive of her own.

The Apokoliptan speedster ran circles around him and Lashina, working up her momentum and then when her speed would peak, she'd barrel into the kryptonian-genomorph using the force of her super-speed to deal more damage than she otherwise would have been unable to do.

Superboy snarled again and, summoning his strength, broke free of Lashina's bonds. Speed Queen saw to late that he was free and on her last pass, rather than slamming into him, ran smack into his out-stretch arm, the momentum of her forward motion causing her feet to swing up over her head. The Superboy caught her by the ankles and slammed her head strait into the ground where he left her, turning his focus to Lashina.

Gilotina and Mad Harriet regrouped with their leader and the three women glared at the Earth-made living weapon. The three were about to launch themselves at the Superboy but a clap of hands gave them all pause.

Two short claps.

All four of them looked up passed the empty Arena stands to the Grand Balcony where Granny stood observing their practice. She had only introduced the weapon to her girls earlier that day and it looked like they were already becoming fast friends. Wonderful!

"Oh, excellent, excellent, my little chickadees." She beamed down at them all. "Its so good to see you all getting along. What do you think of him, girls? Is he not stunning?"

…

Apokolips

3 Days Ago…

Superboy-Dark once again knelt in Darksied's audience chamber, one fist to the ground, the other across his chest –the posture of honor and service to Mighty Darksied.

"You have trained well, my weapon." There was no infraction in the godly ruler's voice when he said this, no emotion. It was simply a statement.

Superboy-Dark wanted to respond with the appropriate thanks expected from one of his station but he had discovered since coming to Apokolips that words did not come to him as easily as they used to. He couldn't understand why. Overall, it wasn't a necessity and the inability hadn't bothered him much over his two weeks thus far, but times like this he really wished he could speak. The weapon could not give his thanks to his master and so he kept his head down, groveling adequately so as to avoid offending the Great Darksied.

"As a reward for your admirable performance," he continued, "I have an assignment for you. I trust you remember your former world –Earth."

He did and so, since he could not speak, he raised his head and gave the god-like king a nod of confirmation.

"I wish to extend to Earth the privilege of joining my Empire. You will lead the advanced force in capturing it."

…

Apokolips

2 Days Ago…

Superboy-Dark, whom those around him had come to call 'Mute', 'Quiet', and now that he was leading an invasion force, the 'Silent Brigadier General', sat in his quarters within Granny Goodness' Orphanage. Since becoming a member of Darksied's Elite he had been granted his own private room and no longer had to share with the rest of the boys under Granny's guidance.

He reviewed Earth's defenses, both military and Justice League in nature. He memorized the locations of weapons depots across the globe, important bases, influential leaders, etc. And when he was sure that he had learned all there was to learn about the pitiful human militaries of the globe, Mute turned his attention to the Justice League. Most of the information he now studied was information he himself had provided Granny with two weeks ago, but for some reason, his own memories of the League were a bit fuzzy. As if someone had spilt water over them and the ink had run.

That was a silly idea. Memories made of ink.

He scanned through the documents Granny had provided him with, reading up on Wonder Woman of Themyscira, one of the Green Lanters (there were, like, three of them), Aquaman the ruler of the underwater kingdom of Atlantis, the Flash whom was the 'Fastest Man Alive', Batman the Earth's Greatest Detective… and then Quiet got to the file complied on his genetic-parent –the Superman.

The Superboy-Dark paused. He studied the images of the man, every photo and hologram they had of the Man of Steel. Mute's eyes traced the square chin and high cheekbones, the cleft in the chin and the thin lips that seemed set in a determined frown in every image. That didn't seem right, he distinctly remembered Kal-El smiling at some point… hadn't he…? Superboy-Dark wasn't quite sure anymore, when he tried to call up an image of the man from his own memory it all went fuzzy.

He remembered a fortress of ice, white stone and crystal, it was Kal's home. He knew its coordinates and how to get in, but what else…? There had been a dog there… no, two dogs… a dog and a wolf? Yes. It was Wolf whom he'd brought home with him from India and Kal's dog Krypto. His Team came over to visit often. But wait… wasn't he supposed to have been living in the Cave at Mt. Justice? What would his Team need to visit him at Kal's Fortress for if they saw him every day at the Cave already?

Or… had living at the Cave just been a temporary thing? Had the plan always been for him to move in with Kal and his stay at the Cave was just to give the man time to put his own house in order? Drifting up from the bowls of his memory, Superboy-Dark vaguely recalled the Kid Flash's voice back at Cadmus before he had actually been awakened…

'They're making a slave out of, well… Superman's son.'

Was that it? No. That wasn't right. He was a clone of Kal, not his son.

Superboy-Dark started to feel dizzy. None of what he remembered made much sense. It was all mixed-up and jumbled together in shards and fragments. Disconnected and twirly. The only things he was sure of were that he needed to face Kal again and neutralize him, and that he lived to serve Darksied. Those were the solid facts. That was all he truly needed to know. Everything else was window dressing.

He looked back at the images of Superman and once again studied his enemy. The strait nose, the set of his crystal blue eyes, the lazy carefree spit curl of hair… the man looked so much like him. Of course, he was Kal's clone.

'well… Superman's son.'

No. Clone.

'Superman's son.'

Clone.

'Son.'

'I finally decided on your name. … Kon-El.' A gift to the House of El, the House of the Star. Star Gift. Kon-El. A gift to Superman…

…

Apokolips

Yesterday…

The army was assembled and the Silent Brigadier General was ready.

Granny stepped forward to offer a parting gift to the Superboy-Dark. A helmet. As she presented it to him, the living weapon could hear the music of Apokolips fill the air around them. What an odd gift to give someone. But no matter. He accepted it with gratitude all the same.

"Serve Great Darkseid." She said. "Wear this helmet proudly as you lead his armies. Die for him -and reward your Granny."

Mute nodded his understanding and saluted Granny Goodness. He then turned to his troops.

A Boom Tube was opened and Quiet raised his arm and when he let it fall again, the swarms of Parademons sailed forward, a raging tide ready to wash over the forces of their enemies.

…

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Lashina glared at the silent brigadier general as the squad of Parademons she'd sent after the escaping Superman and his liberators brought him in for a none to gentle landing in one of the Watchtower's emergency airlocks. She watched through the small window as the external door shut behind them and the chamber began to re-pressurize. Blue Eyes took off his oxygen mask just before the green light came on, indicating it was safe to enter the base proper.

He stepped into the corridor and offered her a slight nod of thanks for sending the Parademons to assist him.

She smacked him hard across the face, wincing at the pain it caused in her own hand as she did so. The loud clap of palm against cheek echoed through the corridor, reverberating off the steel paneled walls, the sound causing the Parademons to pause and stare, then as one decided it was safer to put as much distance between themselves and two of Darksied's Elite whom were about to row as possible.

Superboy-Dark stared at her wide-eyed.

"You were supposed to kill him." She growled, voice low and threatening. "That was your task, your one mission, the single thing you were created to do and you couldn't do that. No. You had to bring him back to our base with you like some sort of bizarre war-trophy."

His eyes narrowed into crystal-blue slits of displeasure.

"You should never have been given command of this invasion." She continued. "As soon as we cordon off and seal the compromised areas of the station and get the air-flow back online, I'm petitioning Granny to revoke your command. You're obviously to emotionally invested in this to think clearly."

She turned to leave. He grabbed her arm with vice-like constraint. This was his command; the Great Darksied had personally named him as leader for this mission. He was not about to let some ribbon twirling twat take it away from him!

"Careful, Blue-Eyes." She growled, low and threatening. Lashina was not one easily cowed. "Our master might have chosen you to begin this mission, but don't go inflating your own importance. I've been one of Darksied's Elite far longer than you and if it ever came down to a question of you or me… who do you think the master will choose to keep?"

That gave him pause. He stood, starring at her.

She walked away.

…

Stately Wayne Manor

April 2 – 6:04 am

Clark rolled over in the wide bed, pulling the sheets around him as he did so. The mattress sank under his weight and the mahogany wood frame creaked with his movement. Hm, a wood bed frame, had he spent the night at his parents' house in Smallville?

Clark stretched as he pondered that question. No… This bed was far too big to belong in his room in the Kent farmhouse. Slowly, with a yawn, the Superman opened his eyes and instantly recognized his surroundings.

Wayne Manor.

Clark sat bolt upright in bed. Okay, what the hell had happened last night? It wasn't often that Clark Kent, the Superman, woke-up in Batman's home without the slightest idea of how he'd gotten there or what they, the World's Finest, had done to render the Man of Steel unconscious and devoid of memory. Clark did a quick check of himself.

Ten fingers, ten toes, no obvious injuries (thought, with his kryptonian healing abilities that didn't mean much). But, um… where was his uniform. Clark noted with only mild alarm that he lay in bed in naught but his underwear. Okay… Last night had either been one crazy wild party or else he'd been hit with enough green kryptonite to merit Alfred's surgical skills to remove all the green-k shrapnel from his person.

…Or, option three; Bruce had (in classic Batman fashion) synthesized his own version of Clark's kryptonian sedative and dosed him with it to test its effectiveness (or just for shits and giggles). It wasn't the most likely of options, but it wasn't beyond the Batman either.

Keeping that in mind, Clark jumped out of bed and ran to the adjoining bathroom just to make sure the Caped Crusader hadn't written anything on him in permanent marker. (It wouldn't be the first time Bruce had pranked him like that.) The Superman breathed a sigh of relief as he looked in the mirror.

His forehead was utterly devoid of any words like 'Buffoon', 'Idiot' or 'Hayseed'. There had been no big dark circles drawn around his eyes. There were no doodles on his chest. The small of his back did not sport any bat-shaped tramp-stamps. His arms were free of any hearts that said 'Mom' or 'Mamma's Boy'. It seemed Bruce had not taken the liberty of using him as a canvas for his rudimentary art skills. That was a relief. His skin might be invulnerable, but permanent marker still took a couple washings to get off.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief and reentered the bedroom. But that still left the question of what he was doing waking up in Bruce's home with no memory of how he'd gotten here.

Luckily, the Man of Steel didn't have to wait long. Whether the Dark Knight had calculated that this would be around the time he'd be waking up or that he had the whole room bugged with surveillance (both of which were equally likely), Clark couldn't decide. But Alfred Pennyworth walked in bearing a tray of tea and sandwiches and a standard house-call medical bag.

"Good morning, Master Clark." He said with the same professional stoicism he always used when speaking, even to Bruce whom he had raised almost as a son.

Clark rushed forward to take the tray from him and help lighten the older man's load a little.

"Thank you, Master Clark, but I have it." He shooed the over-polite country bumpkin aside. "Perhaps you might like to put a robe on?"

"Uh, right." Clark pulled the house robe that had been hung over one of the bedposts over himself.

Alfred set the tea tray on the bedside table and opened his medical bag, motioning for the Superman to take a seat. "And how are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine. I guess." Clark shrugged as he sat. "A little confused. What am I doing here?"

"Hm." Alfred didn't exactly answer as he took out a stethoscope and began checking Clark's heartbeat and breathing. He asked the Man of Steel to breath in deeply and exhale slowly to which the Superman offered a lopsided grin and asked with slight amusement just how deep the old butler meant. If he inhaled as deeply as he could, he'd suck all the air out of the room. To this Alfred simply clarified, "A reasonable amount, if you please."

He then moved the stethoscope to Clark's back and repeated the process.

"Just a few questions, Master Clark." He said as he replaced the stethoscope in his bag and instead selected a small penlight. "First, something easy: What is your name?"

"Clark Kent." He answered in annoyance, as Alfred shined the light in his eyes. "And if you're checking to see if my pupil dilate you're gonna need something a bit stronger than that."

"And your other name?" The army-medic trained butler continued, ignoring his comment.

"Superman." Clark grumbled.

"And you're other name?"

Clark gave an irritated sigh. "Kal-El of Krypton. Would you like me to list off my ancestors too?"

"That will do, Master Clark." He assured the All-American Alien. The penlight was returned to the bag and Alfred then began feeling his throat and chin, checking his lymph nodes. "Do you know today's date?"

"March thirty-first." Okay, it was becoming apparent by these questions that Alfred (or more likely Bruce) suspected some version of brain damage. What in the world had happened?

"And your favorite color, if you please?"

"Blue." He grumbled.

"Hm." He took out a tongue depressor and checked the back of Clark's throat. Then he packed up his bag and stood. "Master Bruce wants you to come down to the cave to be debriefed whenever you're ready, Master Clark. In the meantime I suggest you indulge in a shower. Your uniform is still in the wash. However, you might find these a tad more serviceable than that robe."

He walked to a wardrobe and pulled out a red flannel plaid shirt and blue jeans, socks, new underwear and a pair of glasses identical to Clark Kent's. He placed these on the bed next to the Superman.

"Is that my shirt!" He picked up the plaid flannel piece and examined the miss-matched buttons. Yes, this was his shirt; he'd re-sewn the buttons himself (several times). Ripping his shirts open and revealing his Superman S might be heroically dramatic, but it was murder on his shirt buttons. Joann's Fabric store must make bank off of him and his button purchases alone. But he thought he'd lost this shirt in his apartment building's laundry room.

"Master Bruce is a firm believer in always being prepared."

Clearly.

…

Stately Wayne Manor

April 2 – 7:12 am

Showered, dressed, hair combed and glasses on, Clark stepped out of his room in the guest wing of Wayne Manor.

The Superman blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again. Cleaned his glasses. …No, he was definitely seeing right. But the only possible explanation for what he saw could be that he had somehow woken up in a bizarre alternate universe in which Bruce Wayne, the Batman, had actual friends and invited them over from time to time. That was the only explanation.

"Morning, Supes." Hal Jordan yawned at him, as he and fellow Green Lantern, John Stewart, passed him in the corridor, both wearing pajamas and heading for the stairs (presumably down to breakfast).

Zatanna and Black Canary walked in the opposite direction, also yawning, and complaining to one another about their lack of sleep and how hard they intended to hit their respective pillows.

Was Bruce having the entire League over for a slumber party?

Dear Rao! This must be what going mad felt like!

There was only one way he was going to get to the bottom of this. Clark followed the Lanterns through the corridor and down the stairs. As he had guessed, they veered off and headed for the dining room. A quick glance with his X-ray vision showed that Alfred had set-up a 'buffet-style' breakfast and Barry and the two Hawks were already seated and eating. He continued past the dinning room on to the study and the concealed entrance to the Batcave.

The Man of Steel received another hard shock when he opened the study door, however. The faux grandfather clock that concealed the interior entrance to the Batcave hung wide open, displaying its secret for all in the house to see and, unless his super-human hearing was mistaken (which it almost never was) Clark distinctly heard classical music drifting out from the bowls of the cave. That's it! That settled it! Either he had somehow passed into an alternate universe without his noticing… or, he was going completely insane.

Now wary and hesitant, the Superman stepped through the clock and descended the narrow cut-stone steps that lead into the Batcave. The melody of 'The Old Castle Promenade' from Modest Musorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition floated around him and it occurred to Clark then, maybe he wasn't the one that had taken a dive off the deep end, but maybe it was Bruce instead. It was a documented fact that forty percent of native Gothamites ended-up insane or at the very least, 'unhinged' by the age of thirty. The Batman had always been 'unhinged'; maybe he'd finally taken that final step... ?

Bruce was standing by the coffee maker when Clark finally reached the bottom step. Of course he would be. When the Dark Knight told you to meet him in his cave, chances were you would find him either by the coffee or in front of his monitor array when you entered. But it wasn't coffee Bruce was drinking, or rather, it wasn't just coffee. Clark watched as the Caped Crusader opened a packet of pure caffeine powder and pored it in his drink. Focusing his hearing on his friend, the Superman counted his heart beat and calculated that Bruce had been up for almost two days.

How long had he been out? And how much had he missed?

The Dark Knight looked up, met his eyes and tilted his head toward his worktable. Usually, it was covered with the various components that went into his bat-bombs or the bombs themselves in various stages of assembly (or disassembly). But this morning all that had been pushed to one end, leaving the rest of the table cleared and two chairs had been dragged to it and placed on either side.

Bruce sat. Clark took the seat opposite him.

"Morning." He said. There was no outward indication that he was sleep deprived or otherwise under any sort of strain. But Clark could see that behind his mask the man's eyes were tight and tense.

"Must have been some party." Clark commented, determined to keep a light mood. Bruce had a way of making even the most cheerful and happy of situations seem somber. The Founding Seven sometimes joked that that was his super-power.

Bruce said nothing in return, just gave the Man of Steel an impatient frown that, had the upper portion of his face not been obscured by his cowl, would have been part of one of his many 'serious faces'.

Alfred materialized by them, bearing a tray of freshly baked goods. He began unloading plates of scones, cupcakes, apple pie, devil's food cake, carrot cake, cream pie, strawberry tart, tiramisu, and one plate that didn't seem to belong at all –bacon and eggs with hash browns. What in the world?

Bruce propped his elbows on the table, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on the platform they made. He regarded the Superman. "Choose one."

"What?" Clark blinked in utter confusion. "Is this some kinda test?"

"Just pick one, Clark."

The Man of Steel suppressed the urge to grumble and instead turned his attention to the plates of food before him. He was about to reach for the apple pie, but hesitated. He hadn't eaten breakfast yet and Ma would not approve of pie for breakfast, she'd raised him better than that. With a heavy sigh of reluctance, Clark moved his hand from the pie plate to the bacon and eggs, the only plate that did not have a sweet desert on it. He looked up at Bruce for some sort of approval, or any cue at all for that matter, but the Dark Knight gave nothing away.

Feeling unbelievably awkward, Clark took a bite, paused, looked back up at his friend. "You're just gonna watch me eat?"

No response.

"Bruce, you can be so creepy sometimes."

Again, the Batman did not deign to respond.

Clark sighed and turned his attention back to his breakfast. Alfred was a great cook, but his expertise leaned more towards the cultured and cosmopolitan. He could bake a quiche, braise a side of beef, dress a quail, or mousse a salmon like it was nobody's business. But when it came to the simple all-American heartland foods, Alfred was simply… average. But that didn't mean that Clark wasn't going to clean his plate. As Ma reminded him often, it was wrong to waste perfectly good food in front of you while there were children starving in China.

He pushed the plate away when he was finished, his attention then returned to the apple pie. It was wrong to waste food, after all, there were children starving in China. …Of course, with Barry upstairs Clark could be sure that no food would be going to waste any time soon. But it was apple pie…!

"Okay, I know you said I could only choose one plate, but… can I still eat the pie?"

Bruce clapped as if in congratulations. "You passed."

"Excuse me?"

Bruce pushed the plate of pie toward the Man of Steel before pulling the devil's food to himself. "Everything's consistent with the man you were before."

"Before?" Clark echoed, his mouth full of pie. He swallowed. "Before what?"

Bruce used his fork to cut himself a bite of his own cake, slowly raised it to his lips, wrapped his mouth around the fork, chewed with careful ease, savoring the flavor, and the swallowed. "Tell me, Clark, what did you do yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" The Man of Steel blinked again. "Well, I got up, prevented a car accident, rescued a kitten from a tree, got coffee, bantered with Lois as Clark, turned in an article ahead of my deadline, beat Toyman, bantered with Lois as Superman, then I went to my Fortress to try and find a way of tracking Boom Tubes and finding Kon-El. But I have no idea how I ended up unconscious in your house, if that's what you're asking."

He took another bite of devil's food. "Mm, I don't know how to tell you this, Clark, but what you think you did yesterday, you actually did the day before yesterday." Another bite of cake. "Hm, well, I guess I did know how to tell you. Today is not March thirty-first, but rather April second."

"Get out. What could have knocked me out for two days?"

"Actually, you were only out for about five hours. Well, five hours, twelve minuets and forty-three seconds if you wanna be really exact."

He would know.

"Then why don't I remember yesterday?" A pause. "Was this an April Fools prank? Because I thought that after the Magic-K incident we promised never to try and prank one another again… ever!"

"Do you want an explanation or not?"

"I want an explanation." Clark nodded.

"Then shut up and eat your pie." He turned on his best bat-glare and fixed it upon the Superman until he lowered his eyes back to his apple-filled pastry and once again began to eat. The Batman waited one… two… three beats before beginning, "Earth's being invaded by Apokolips, the same people who took Conner from you. Conner's working for them. We've already lost the Watchtower, the Cave and your Fortress. You were captured. They tried to mind-control you too. The Team rescued you. J'onn and I cleaned out your brain, though, so you're safe. You're welcome, by the way. The end."

Clark stared at him, his mouth hanging open in disbelief, his fork halfway up from his plate the bit of pie on it seemingly forgotten.

"Would you like me to repeat?"

He just continued to stare.

"Clark?"

"I'm waiting for you to say 'April Fools'."

Bruce sighed. It was too much to hope for to keep the explanations short. He pushed his devil's food aside and leaned his arm on the table. Taking another sip from his laced coffee the Dark Knight began a more in-depth recap for the Man of Steel.


	12. Allegro Moderato

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Granny hated it when her children fought, or rather; she hated it when they fought without her go-ahead. A little violence between peers was healthy, after all. Still, tension between Lashina and the Superboy-weapon just wouldn't do. She considered the Ribbon Warrior's recommendation to have the kryptonian-genomorph removed from his command position, her reasons made sense but the old Granny was old enough to know that while her reasoning might be sound, her motives were ultimately self-serving. She wanted the weapon out of the way so she could take all the glory for herself. What a wonderful and opportunistic self-promoter she had trained! Lashina was just darling!

Perhaps Granny had been wrong in her decision to let the weapon keep his pet-Superman, of course, she would never admit that. No. Mistakes in judgment (and just mistakes in general) were always someone else's fault. So, the Superboy-Dark was confined to quarters. Granny Goodness then took over command of the Earth invasion herself. Lashina was capable, but why hand command over to an underling when she was here and could command? Hm? Besides, this was she got the glory. That was all that mattered really –glory, and by extension, Darksied's favor.

Granny perused the already laid out battle plans. She called-up a three dimensional hologram of the Earth on which the weapon had already marked the most powerful countries, important human military bases, strategic political centers, leaders' residences, and any other points of interest that might merit a small hit. There were just under one thousand targets in total. The forces of Apokolips were formidable, but that was spreading them just a tad to thinly in the old Granny's opinion.

She narrowed the focus for the second wave of their attack strictly to the military bases of the United States, China and Russia. Those seemed the three that would present the biggest threat of retaliation, thus, they should be dispatched quickly, gotten out of the way so as not to both them during the rest of the operation. They had already take care of the Justice League and their base was under Apokoliptan control. It was time to do the that for the rest of the Earth as well.

…

Batcave

April 2 – 8: 57 am

The music playing in the cave had shifted tracks from Pictures at an Exhibition to a mixed CD that the tiny MP3 control on the Batcave's main monitor array called the Vienna Master Series. The high violins and violas of Allegro Molto Appassionato by Mendelssohn-Bartholdy twirled and cavorted through Clark's ears and he had to interrupt Bruce's monologue to ask, "Okay, so why does the Batcave suddenly sound like the Metropolis Phil Harmonic?"

"Its just a precautionary thing." The Dark Knight shrugged. "The way you explained it before J'onn and I mind-wiped you, you said that Granny Goodness used a counter-signal to your and Superboy's natural signal, one that was, quote: 'more compatible with Apokolips', end quote. When J'onn and I cleared her tampering from your mind we used a kryptonian signal because you're from Krypton so, logically, your 'natural signal' would be something kryptonian. The rest of the League is –mostly- from Earth, so I'm using Earth music to block the enemy signals. Ya know, just in case anyone else is under their control and we don't know about it."

"But what about-"

"I've also mixed in a few Thanagarian tracks for the Hawks."

"And-"

"And some Martian ones for J'onn and his niece."

Clark closed his mouth. Of course Bruce had thought of everything, the Batman always thinks of everything. That's what the Batman does. He looked down at his own plaid shirt, a shirt he did not recall ever leaving at Wayne Manor (and he had a near perfect memory), the Batman had even thought to keep some of his civilian clothing in stock just in case the Man of Steel might be in need of a convenient wardrobe change while in Gotham. (Or in this case, while recovering from a short bout of memory loss post-mind-control.) Ah… the life of a superhero.

"One last question." He tugged on the collar of his shit to draw the Dark Knight's attention to it. "Have you been sneaking into my apartment again? Because I distinctly remember asking you to stop doing that!"

To this the Caped Crusader merely scoffed. "Pff, please, I haven't broken into your home in weeks." A pause. "Which reminds me, we're all out of peanut butter."

For a moment Clark looked politely violated and scandalized.

"Go back upstairs." Bruce reached over the table to pat him on the shoulder. "Take a couple minuets to digest everything I've told you, I know it's a lot. Alfred's probably finished with your uniform by now, go change. The entire League, plus the Team will be having a meeting at 9:30 to plan our response to the threat, be back down here by then. Other than that, free time."

"'Free time'?" Clark echoed. "What, are we suddenly in kindergarten?"

"With Hal and Barry, Wally and Roy, the rest of the kids' Team not specifically mentioned and Captain Marvel all under one roof? … Yes, Clark, we're in kindergarten."

"Poor Batman." The Superman teased. "You work so hard for all of us and we do nothing but vex you."

"Don't patronize me Clark, I've been up for thirty-two hours and had to deal with a lot of crap –from all sides." It was a testament to just how vexed the Batman truly was that he didn't threaten the Superman that he had kryptonite and wasn't afraid to use it. "Your dogs are outside, by the way, because I won't let them in the cave or the house. Go do something about them so that I don't have to worry about them anymore. That would help un-vex me."

With a sigh, the Man of Steel rose from the table, heading for the Batcave's back entrance. As he did so the music track shifted once again, this time to Scène Des Wilis (Entrée D'Hilarion) from the ballet Giselle and Clark shook his head, calling over his shoulder, "I just got a horrible mental image of the Hawks flying down into the cave to the accompaniment of Ride of the Valkyries."

Clark waited. There was a pregnant pause, then a small snort, then the rumble of suppressed laughter audible only to Clark's superior hearing, and then the suppressed rumble grew in intensity until Bruce Wayne, the Caped Crusader, the Dark Knight, the Batman was good and truly laughing. Clark smiled to himself. It was nice to be able to make one of the gloomiest people in the League (possibly on the planet) laugh every now and again at nothing more than a lighthearted and good-humored joke.

He exited the cave to find both dogs (technically one dog, one wolf) sitting with their backs to him, tails wagging expectantly, eyes focused on Miss Martian whom hovered above them, levitating a bag of Milk-Bones well out of their reach.

"…Stay …stay." She commanded.

For a moment Clark wondered if Krypto was just going to fly up and take the treats without earning them, but while he might lift a front paw every now and again, his butt remained firmly on the ground, his tail dusting the dew moistened grass.

"Good boys!" M'gann lowered two Milk-Bones, one for each super-dog, and held them in front of their respective intended canines to take them in their jaws. "You're such good boys!" she continued to coo now in the 'baby-voice' most people tended to use when speaking to animals and small children. "Who're the most adorable puppies in the whole world? Who're my adorable little puppies? You are! Yes, you're my adorable little puppies."

It was Krypto that noticed him first, turning around and offering his Milk-Bone to Clark, presumably as a 'get well soon, Master' gift. The hyper-intelligent kryptonian canine could not have missed all the noise and commotion Bruce claimed he made when he and J'onn had cleaned out his mind. Clark patted the super-dog on head and was about to tell him to keep his treat when Wolf pounced upon him. The cobra-venom enhanced predator jumped up on Clark, barking happily, wagging his tail excitedly and getting wet grassy paw-prints all over his flannel shirt.

"Wolf, no!" M'gann shouted at him. "Down! Bad! Bad, Wolf!" Using her telekinesis she pulled the animal off of Clark and set him down again gently, placing herself between the predator and the man. "I'm sorry. He's really very harmless and friendly."

"I know." The Man of Steel nodded and brushed wet grass of himself.

"We've been trying to train him but he doesn't really listen to anyone besides…" A pause, melancholy hesitation. "… He's a wolf, not a dog, you see. Superboy was his 'Alpha' so he listened to him and Superman smells like Superboy because, well, that should be obvious, so he listens to Superman too. But he's indisposed at the moment. Wolf kinda listens to me a little bit, because Superboy and I… we, well…"

"You're the 'Alpha-female'." Clark supplied. It made sense, if Kon-El was the Wolf's Alpha, then it stood to reason that Kon-El's mate would then be the Alpha-female of the Wolf's perceived pack. (Though, to be completely honest, Clark felt the girl was just a little to sweet and gentle to posses an actual 'Alpha-female' personality.)

M'gann blushed daintily. "Yeah. I guess that's it."

"How're you holding up?" Clark asked. He was still reeling from all that Bruce had told him and he'd only just recently grown to know Kon-El. But Miss Martian had known him, been friends with him and come to care deeply about him for far longer. She must be just as, if not more, torn up about Kon's turn to the dark side than he was.

She glanced at him startled. "I… I'd rather, um… Thank you for your concern, sir, but I'd rather not discuss it with someone I don't know." She fidgeted uncomfortably then offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I know you must be a member of the League or at least a trusted ally since you came out of the cave, but I don't know you and you didn't know Superboy, so…"

Clark pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and suppressed an ironic smile. He had almost forgotten that at the moment he was Clark Kent and not Superman. With his spit-curl combed out of the way and his glasses on, even his most intimate friends and co-workers couldn't recognize him for the super-powered titan that he was.

"I understand." He shifted his focus back to Krypto and knelt down in front of the super-dog. "I need you to go to the farm, boy. There're more bad people coming and you gotta make sure Ma and Pa stay safe. Ya got that? Now get."

M'gann stared in confusion as the super-dog flew off to carry out to glasses-wearing stranger's command. She glanced from Krypto's retreating cape, no longer visible to her eyes, back to Clark whom just stood there smiling. It hadn't quite clicked yet.

"Wolf was so excited to see me because I smell like Kon-El." He said.

Then it clicked. Her eyes went wide. "Uncle Supes!"

He once again readjusted his glasses and offered her a self-conscious smile, then paused when he saw that she had started to cry. "M'gann?"

The martian girl shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Its just Conner… That wasn't Conner that we met up there. He didn't act like Conner –you're gonna say it was the mind-control, I know. That's what Arty said to make me feel better. But he didn't feel like Conner either. There was nothing like Conner there on the outskirts and when I tried to get in… there was a block. He never had any barriers before. I used to think that's why he hated my telepathy, because I could just waltz in any time and he couldn't stop me. But now his barriers are iron-clad. I couldn't get in at all and I'm afraid that there's nothing of him left in there! The Conner I knew… the Conner I… my Conner…"

She broke down into sobs, burying her face in her hands.

Clark quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the weeping girl. "Hey now." He chided her softly. "We'll get him back. After all, they tried to do the same thing to me but Batman and your uncle brought me back. We'll do the same thing to Kon-El and everything will be fine again."

This did not seem to comfort her and Clark couldn't understand why. Then again, Clark didn't really have a full grasp of the situation. Bruce had conveniently left out the bit about Clark's mind-control thing-a-ma-bobber having been located much shallower in his psyche than Conner's was. Clark had only lost a day's worth of thoughts and memories, but what would Conner louse with the psychic-receiver placed right next to the center of his Self? That was what worried M'gann. One way or another, it seemed like Conner was lost. He might as well have been dead. She explained none of this to the Superman, however.

Clark patted her back in an attempt to offer what comfort he could. He had never been very good when dealing with weeping girls. His talents laid in smashing things to make problems disappear, not offering soothing words and comforting gestures. He would call his Ma when he got back inside and ask her advice on the matter. Speaking of going back inside…

"C'mon." He said to her. "Bats says that there's gonna be a meeting in a little less than a half hour from now and we both gotta be there."

The martian girl dried her eyes. "You can call him by his name now." She said absentmindedly. "We know who he is. Unless… unless you don't know. Sorry. Hello, M'gann! It was an accident that we found out, Batman probably hasn't let anyone else know who he is."

The Team had somehow 'accidentally' learned Bruce's identity? Well, that was… new. Clark was torn between being amused that the ever-paranoid and always prepared Batman had slipped-up in some way, or deeply concerned that the ever-paranoid and always prepared Batman had slipped up in some way. It was a coin-toss. But to M'gann he said, "He didn't used to line his cowl with lead until after he met me."

She paused. Thought for a moment. Gave a snort.

"There ya go." He smiled back at her, happy to have dispelled her sorrowful mood if only a little bit. "C'mon, lets get back inside."

They reentered the cave together. Batman looked up from where he had moved back to the coffee maker to refill his cup. Clark gave him a nod as they passed, Krypto the Superdog was out of his hair. Of course, the Wolf was still here, but he wasn't quite as problematic for the Dark Knight as the kryptonian canine tended to be. At least Wolf didn't fly or shoot lazers out of his eyes. The Superman escorted Miss Martian through the cave and back into the mansion proper.

"Have you eaten?" He asked as they were passing the dinning room.

"Not hungry." She whispered.

"You should eat something." He steered the girl into the dinning room where Alfred was just refilling the buffet-style breakfast bar with hot scrambled eggs, cool sliced fruit and chilled orange juice. It was good to see that he was making sure everyone had a chance at the food before the Flashes inhaled it all. He gently pushed M'gann in the direction of the breakfast bar before turning his attention to the rest of the Leaguers that had gathered in the dinning room.

Robin had apparently risen. The little bird, much like his mentor, was not a morning person by nature and he looked irritable and snarly, snapping at anyone who tried to bother him. And Kid Flash did bother him a great deal, poking him in the arm, telling him to wake-up, look alive, rise and shine, all the while trying to snag food off his plate. Artemis look equally as irritable as Robin but had the luxury of not being the focus of the young Kid Flash's attention. Of all the kids' Team, Aqualad seemed the most composed, awake and alert.

He was the first to notice Clark after first registering M'gann's entrance, but his face showed no recognition. He didn't recognize the Superman either. Clark once again pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, pleased that his civilian disguise was so full-proof to spite being so paper-thin.

The Man of Steel had already eaten with Bruce and had no desire for a second breakfast (unlike the Flashes, he was not a hobbit mythkin). He was about to turn to leave when Hal Jordan called out to him.

"Hey! You're up!" The Green Lantern used his power-ring to materialize a giant glowing green hand twice the size of his head in the air above him. Effectively making him, and by extension Clark, the center of everyone's attention. "Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?"

The floating green hand held up two fingers in a peace sign or 'victory sign' (depending on who you ask). But the moment it had Hal raised a third finger, then lowered two, raised another three, lowered two so that he was now making the 'devil horns' hand sign, then raised another, lowered two more, raised his thumb in the 'hang loose' sign, materialized three extra fingers…

Sitting next to Hal, John Stewart's face fell into the palm of his hand.

Clark for his part refused to play along. "A brain-dead joke. Cute."

The Hawks stood and left, they had little patience for the Lantern's childish shenanigans and tomfoolery.

"You're still alright." The Lantern smiled and used the giant green hand to pull out a chair. "Come sit down."

"Naw." Clark waved off the offered seat. "I gotta track down my uniform before the meeting. I just came in here to make sure Miss Martian got some food in her."

The aforementioned Miss Martian carried a deplorably sparse selection of fruit to the table and sat next to Artemis. She lifted a slice of melon to her lips, nibbled a bit, sighed and set it back down. The fem fatal archer, for her part, seemed not to notice her friend for the moment, however, as her attention was devoted instead to trying to place the man bantering with the Lantern. He had the neatly combed hair and thick horn-rimmed glasses of a nerdy book-worm but dressed like a complete hill-billy. She couldn't for the life of her imagine which hero he could possibly be. Another civilian ally, maybe? Like Snapper Carr or Alfred?

Finally she asked, "Who are you?"

This question was met by snorts of amusement from Robin and the elder Flash.

Hal materialized a second giant green hand and clapped excitedly. "Oh, I love watching people's faces when they realize."

Clark shot the Lantern a disapproving look.

"Ooh, let me!" The Boy Wonder now suddenly seemed awake and full of energy. He stood, pulled his chair over to where Clark stood and climbed onto it so that he could approach the man's height. He ruffled his hand through the Man of Steel's hair, causing his trademark spit-curl to fall over his forehead. "Recognize him now?"

Artemis squinted. "He looks… familiar…"

The elder Flash suppressed a laugh from behind his hand. The Kid Flash likewise squinted at Clark but he showed just as little recognition as Artemis had.

"I don't really think your mentor would approve of you trying to out me like this, Robin." Clark crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sure he would." The little bird insisted. "Its only fair, after all." Then to his Team, "Seriously, you guys don't recognize him yet?"

"No…?" Wally, Artemis and Kaldur all shook their heads in a negative.

He pulled off Clark's glasses.

"Oh my god!" Both Artemis and Kid Flash leapt to their feet in surprise, jabbing fingers at the Man of Steel. "You're Uncle Supes!"

Both Lanterns snickered at the nickname.

Clark sighed. He was done. Maybe now that they'd had their fun they could all start acting like responsible heroes. The Earth was under attack after all. He pulled his glasses from Robin's loose grip and picked the boy up off the chair to place his feet back on the floor where they belonged. Chairs were for sitting, after all. "If you've had your fun I'm gonna go. I hope you all behave better at the meeting in ten."

…  
Anacostia-Bolling joint Air Force Naval base

April 2 – 9:30 am

Captain Stephen Rockwell Trevor, better know as Steve Trevor to most, suppressed the urge to yawn as he squinted up at the mid-morning sun, searching the skies for any sign of his 'Angel'. It had been early evening the previous day when Wonder Woman had called him with a quick warning to be careful and stay safe because the Earth was apparently under attack. The Earth was under attack! Well, that was nice. But a call like that should have been put through to the Pentagon, not his private cell! But before the young airman could tell him Angel this, she had hung-up, apparently having more important things to do.

Thus, it was Captain Trevor and not Wonder Woman whom had attempted to get in touch with the Secretary of Defense and it was Captain Trevor that spent well over an hour arguing on the phone with various assistants (all very skilled at saying 'no' without ever actually saying it) before he was finally transferred to an Army General. Fine. So, he wasn't the Secretary of Defense, he was still someone higher-up on the food chain than Steve was (even if he was army and not air force. Hmph.)

General Samuel Lane had been willing to listen to him. The General didn't care that he was being addressed by a mere Captain from a division of the military over which he had no direct authority, no, the good General heard the words 'Earth' and 'attack' and suddenly was all ears. He grilled Captain Trevor, asking him question after question (often the same question several times in different ways) but sadly, Wonder Woman had not said much more than just "Earth's under attack. Be careful, Steve." He did not know who the enemy was. He did not know what the enemy was. As it turned out, Steve proved rather useless.

At least, he thought he did. General Lane, on the other hand, sounded like Christmas had come early the way he ranted into the phone that he'd always been right about 'those damn aliens'. Steve had mentioned nothing about 'aliens'. Wonder Woman had mentioned nothing about 'aliens'. Where had the General gotten that idea? Captain Trevor listened a bit more about repelling the 'invasion' (Steve had said nothing of an 'invasion'), and his daughter in Metropolis (ah yes, it was widely rumored that General Lane's opinion of Superman was highly suspect), and then something called Coluan… Finally, the Captain decided to risk being rude and cut the General off.

Lane apparently had gotten the ear of the Secretary of Defense because a few hours after that conversation, all military personal both active and on leave were called back to their bases (Captain Trevor included).

That was what brought Steve to now, standing just outside the Anacostia-Bolling's mess, with a bland breakfast of eggs in his belly and a quarter night's sleep under his belt, searching the skies for a beautiful raven-haired flying woman in a strapless bathing suit and high-heeled boots. Sadly, his Angel did not float into his field of vision drifting on the current of a light breeze. No.

But something else did.

They looked like a swarm of gnats at first, or maybe bees (seeing as they were mostly yellow in color), basically some sort of unpleasant swarming insects. There was no real formation or order to them; they were just there …and quickly coming here. Was this what Wonder Woman had been talking about? Her message yesterday had been short and vague. He didn't get a chance ponder that question, however, as it was at that moment that the bases warning system leapt to life with a cornucopia of alarms and sirens that sent everyone with a pair of legs scrambling.

Steve sighed as he made a mad dash back to his barracks to exchange his uniform for a flight suit. It was as he was climbing into his fighter that he mused to himself that there was never a dull moment when you were friends with a superhero (even when she wasn't around), and today looked like it was going to be more interesting than most.

…

Batcave

April 2 – 9:30 am

Chaos.

That was Clark's first though when he stepped back into the Batcave, now wearing his Superman unitard and cape, still dryer warm and mountain scent fresh. (Although, if he had the time, Clark would have mentioned that it was not actually what mountains smelled like. Mountains smelled of pine and granite and moist fertile earth. Mountains smelled alive and strong, they did not smell like what most fabric softeners would make you believe. But, there wasn't time for that right now.)

Bruce stood in front of the Batcave's main monitor array, his chair forgotten, not taking his eyes off the screen as he listed off, "They've hit the Pentagon in Virginia, Pearl Harbor Hickam in Hawaii, and Pensacola in Florida…"

"… also Camp Pendleton in California, Point Loma also California, Yuma Arizona, and Anacostia-Bolling in District Colombia." Dick added from where he stood before another consol. At some point in the fifteen minuets since the Superman had seen him last the Boy Wonder had changed from his pajamas into his Robin costume.

"Anacostia-Bolling?" Diana echoed from somewhere off to the side where she had been coiling her lasso. "That's where-"

"Later." The Batman cut her off. "You can rush off and rescue your dude in distress after we all know the full scope of the situation."

Clark cast her a sympathetic look.

"Its not just us." John Stewart threw in from yet another consol. "Reports of attacks on mainland China and Russia."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his mask. "Robin, pull up a map of the globe and mark every location we know of that's been targeted."

The little bird boy did as he was told and the center of the room was filled with a blue translucent hologram of the Earth. Both coasts of North America, Hawaii, the coast of China and parts of the inland and several places in Russia sported bright crimson dots, like chicken-pox. Barry Allen whistled.

"That's a lotta ground to cover."

"We split-up." Bruce growled as if this should have been obvious. "Like we always do for the wide-spread problems. This is no different from any other crisis."

The others might have missed it, but Clark could hear the tension in the Caped Crusader's voice and he knew that man did not believe his own words.

"First we repel their forces." Continued the Batman. "Then we launch our own counter offensive." He took a few moments to arrange the sixteen members of the Justice League and six five members of the Team into pairs (and one team of three for the odd one out) and assigned them a base to defend (or rather, a short list of three or four bases to defend if they could manage it), and he was kind enough to assign Anacostia-Bolling to Wonder Woman. Let it never be said that the Batman was without empathy. "Try to repel the enemy as best you can, but if you're overwhelmed just save as many people as you can. Bases can be rebuilt after this is over, people are a lot harder to replace. Keep your JLA comms on at all times and if anyone sees Superboy call me or Superman immediately!"

Taking that as a dismissal, the League and Team (sans the Dark Knight and Man of Steel) took their leave, dashing, flying, zipping and sprinting off to complete their missions.

The cave now empty but for the two men, Bruce strode over to the work table had and Clark had shared breakfast over no more than a half hour earlier. He picked up a brand new ear-bud comm-link and presented it to Clark. "Here's you're new comm. You left your old on in your Fortress."

Clark accepted it with a sheepish "Thanks" and shoved the bud in his ear.

Bruce then picked up a long coil of thin cabling and held it out for the Man of Steel. "Break this."

Clark looked confused but took the offered cable. Wrapping the end around one hand and a little around the other, the Superman pulled. The line did not snap. He pulled harder. There was a sound of strained fibers, but it still held firm. Clark gave it a third hard tug and the cable snapped in the center of where he held it. "What does that prove?"

"Could someone with two thirds your strength break that?"

Clark paused for a moment. It had been a bit of a challenge and while it hadn't hurt his hands to pull it so tightly, it did leave faint red lines on them. "Not easily…" He didn't feel comfortable giving Bruce an absolute like 'No.'

"It'll have to do." The Dark Knight grunted and, tossing the cable back onto his work table, pulled a pair of wire cutters and six small but heavy looking weights to him. After a few more minuets and some fiddling Bruce held up a bolo, six weights, three on each side, held together by a long thin cable of a flexible but heavy tensile-strength material. The perfect tool for immobilizing an opponent without causing actual harm. Bruce made two more of the bolos before carefully coiling each of them and placing them in his belt.

Speaking of the belt, Clark too a moment to study all that the Batman had added to it in response to this latest of threats to Truth, Liberty and Freedom. There were his smoke bombs, his flash bombs, his gas pellets, darts, batarangs… those were all standard. Bruce was a master of Shurikenjutsu (the martial art of throwing things to hit other things) and so most of his weapons were crafted to fit that style. In fact, Clark didn't really see anything that was overtly different, he had probably just augmented the stuff he already had, like he just did with the bolo. However, given the nature of the opponent they expected to face, Clark couldn't help but think something was missing.

"I let Robin keep the ring for now." Bruce answered his unasked question. "I can't freely use a weapon that poisons my partner as readily as my opponent."

"So, you plan to take down a kryptonian clone with flash bombs and darts?" And he thought the Batman was supposed to be smart.

"With red-flash bombs and darts tipped with your kryptonian sedative, yes." He nodded. The Batman picked-up one final item from his work table and showed it to Clark. A pair of what looked like ordinary noise-canceling headphones but with a USB port on one side, as if to connect them up to a computer like one connects an iPod or other such MP3 player. "Can I trust you to carry these onto the field and not smash them, or should I find room on my belt?"

"What is it?" Asked Clark.

"A simple portable MP3 player-headphones hybrid." Said the Caped Crusader as if this should have been obvious, which it almost kinda was, but only because the Superman was familiar with his work. "Its only got one track loaded and its set for continuous play. A kryptonian canon at the seventh in E flat."

Clark's eyes brightened. "That's for Kon-El! We're gonna turn him back!" With a smile the Man of Steel accepted the noise-canceling headphones/MP3 player and attached them to his own bright yellow belt by hanging it by the headband.

The corners of Bruce's mouth then turned downwards in a serious frown. "Clark, just to remind you, you lost a day's worth of memories after hearing that melody. Chances are-"

"I know, I know." The Superman cut him off. "Kon will probably forget more." He offered a self deprecating smile. "Heh, if I'm lucky maybe he'll even forget all the way back to how much of a negligent deadbeat I was before. That would be really convenient."

Bruce gritted his teeth. That had not been what he was going to say. He had been about to remind Clark that while his mind-control 'receiver' had been extricated from the surface most layer of his mind, Superboy's was lodge almost in his Center. That it was possible that not only would he louse all of his memories (not just most of them), but that he might also louse his mind as well. Not in the feral 'rawr Imma gonna attack everything' sort of way, but rather in the 'drooling vegetable for life' sort of way.

The Dark Knight said none of this, however. Instead he walked over to the coffee pot to drain what was left in it. He forwent the formality of a mug and just tipped the dark liquid directly into his mouth and chugged. That done, he turned to the Man of Steel and asked, "Now then… shall we join the fray?"


	13. Retaliation

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark was board.

He had been confined to quarters shortly after Superman's escape from the station, Lashina even refused to let him help with sealing off the air-leak in the aft hangar bay and getting the oxygen circulation back on line. It probably would have gone faster if she'd let him help. That's not to say that he was particularly fast, no super-speed was not in his power-set, but he was much smarter and cleverer than the Parademons she assigned to the task.

He couldn't hear them in the vacuum hangar, but every now and again something, either a tool or an actual Parademon, would contact with a wall that connected to a still aired section of the station and he would wince every time he heard the hollow echoing bonk or plunk. Then, finally, the vent in the wall of his requisitioned room rumbled to life and cool fresh recycled air drifted in. He hadn't realized how hot the room had become until he felt the cool air kiss his face. He also hadn't realized just how little air he'd actually been getting. Superboy-Dark closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Really, they should have let him help. It would have been done much faster.

Where had this desire to help people come from?

He rolled off the bed and stood under the air vent pondering that question. On Apokolips he was taught helping people was an empty act that brought you nothing. The only person one should ever help was himself. But Superboy-Dark's desire to lend a helping-hand was so strong, much stronger than just the desire to get the air back on line prompted by self-preservation. No. This helping people desire was so strong that it bordered on 'instinct'.

Lowering his face from the vent, the silent brigadier general's eyes fell on a photo on the small desk in the room. It was a relatively old photo, he'd place it at being taken about twenty years ago, judging by the slight fade to it. It showed a warm and happy middle-aged couple with their arms around a boy –young man, more like it- whom looked exactly like him. It wasn't him, of course. Superboy-Dark had never met the people in the picture before. No, the boy they were hugging so affectionately was Kal-El, his genetic-parent –or father, his mind was a little fuzzy on that exact detail.

Did this instinct to protect come from him? Was it not something that could be learned or taught or trained out of him, but rather a specific trait that was coded into his DNA, that was a part of his very being? He wished Kal hadn't escaped and that Granny had been able to turn him to their side. It would have been nice to be able to ask him these sorts of questions. But his former Team had to swoop in and rescue him, much like they had rescued them from Cadmus… he thought. He wasn't quite sure, his memory was a bit spotty.

He remembered living in the Cadmus laboratory, and he remembered running through the corridors with Robin, Aqualad and Kid Flash. But he couldn't remember anything between them. He remembered buildings falling on them, but he couldn't figure out why. There had been a monster there, but he didn't know who it was or had been or why they had been fighting it. He remembered living with Wally for a few days and he remembered living at the Cave for what seemed like a long time. But that couldn't have been right because he lived at the Fortress of Solitude with Kal. …Right?

He did remember M'gann. …Or was her name Megan? Miss Martian. He remembered Miss Martian. He remembered helping her to combat another psychic in Bialya …or was it Qurac? No, it was Bialya! And the psychic's name was… Psimon? Yeah, that was it. He had tried to kiss her after that fight, but something had stopped them.

They had ended up kissing latter, though. On another mission. He remembered her frozen in a block of ice and she was blond for some reason. He wasn't sure why she had altered her form to look like that, nor could he recall why or how she'd gotten frozen. He did remember thinking he'd lost her, and then… and then they had kissed? No, something happened in between that, after he thought she was dead but before the kiss, other wise, how'd she get out of the ice?

He remembered making love to her too. Not on missions, of course. Back at the Cave, in her room, when it was just the two of them, the rest of the Team away, and Red Tornado locked in his own apartment. Ah! That was probably why he thought he had lived at the Cave, because he spent so much time there with M'gann …Megan? –Miss Martian. He lived at the Fortress with Kal, but visited the Cave to see Miss Martian so often that it felt like he lived there! That made sense.

He remembered tangled sheets and mingled gasps. There might have been chocolate syrup and whipped cream involved at some point… He also recalled a time in the bio-ship… maybe… Yeah, in the captain's chair! And… in hay? Rolling around in hay together? Where had they done that?

Superboy-Dark shook his head, putting all thoughts of the martian girl out of his mind. There was an invasion going on and while he had been removed from an active roll in it, that should be the focus of his attention.

…

Anacostia-Bolling joint Air Force Naval base

April 2 – 10:23 am

"I got a pair of 'em on my six!" Captain Trevor's plane dove, twisted and corkscrewed in a series of wild maneuvers that would have made Luke Skywalker swoon. "I can't shake 'em!"

Parademons swarmed around him, filling the skies above Anacostia-Bolling in a swirling kaleidoscope of green and gold, and craws and teeth. They seemed to be outnumbered, two Parademons for every plane they had. He launched a missile into a thick gaggle of them, scattering the creatures with the explosion, but not doing much more. He brought the nose of his fighter about to follow up his missile shot with a barrage of machine gun fire.

Then his plane gave a sort of kick. …and was halted dead in the air.

But he wasn't making like a brick and dropping. Craning his neck to peer out the aft window he saw the problem. The two Parademons that had been on his tail caught up to him and now held him by the tail fin. Steve cut the power, lest the strain blow out his engines.

"Mayday!" He announced over the radio. "They got me. Bailing out!"

Steve double-checked his harnesses to make sure they held him secure in his seat, loaded a clip into his side arm and grabbed the small med-kit from a side compartment. Then, he kicked the Emergency Eject and suddenly was no long cradled within the confines of his fighter but sailing through the air with nothing to support him but his disembodied pilot's chair and a parachute he had not yet let-rip.

His side arm was in his hands, the barrel trained squarely on the two Parademons that still held his now empty plane. Steve got off three shots, two of them hitting the creatures in the head, the third going wide as his attention shifted from the enemy monsters to the ground that was rushing up to meet him. He pulled the cord to let loose his parachute, his decent instantly slowing with a gut-wrenching jerk and set butterflies fluttering in his get (it would have been rather fun if he weren't in the middle of a battle). The gun was again pointing at the 'Demons and he got off another two shots before a shadow streaked over him, there was a ripping sound as his parachute was torn and then suddenly he was once again plummeting earthwards.

Steve sighed. "Crap."

It's said that when a person is about to die their whole life flashes before their eyes, that they relived every significant moment of their existence within the last moments before it ends. That did not happen for Captain Stephen Rockwell Trevor. It wasn't because he was a career airman and feared neither death nor heights. No, instead of his life flashing before his eyes, his mind was instead occupied by one singular thought. A regret rather. He had never told Diana Prince, that spunky army nurse, how he felt about her. …and now it seemed he never would.

There was a glint of light in the corner of his eye, sunlight reflecting off of armor, a blur of red and blue and exposed famine thighs. Then he was no longer falling but floating. Hovering suspended in mid-air.

"Honestly, Steve, we've got to stop meeting like this."

"Angel!" The base might be under attack, the whole world might be in danger from a monstrous invading enemy, a few moments ago he might have been plummeting to his death… But in spite of all that, Captain Trevor couldn't help the smile that spread over his lips.

Wonder Woman set him down on the parade field next to a young girl dressed head-to-toe in green with an exposed midriff, her main of blond hair pulled back in a bushy pony-tail. She held a bow in her hands; the string pulled back and let an arrow fly. It sang past Wonder Woman's ear to strike a Parademon behind her in the eye. The creature snarled and staggered backwards, injured but not dead.

"Artemis, take care of Steve for me!" And before either of them could reply the Amazon princess was sailing upwards again to rejoin the aerial fray.

The girl notched another arrow to her bow.

"'Artemis', huh?" Commented Captain Trevor. "You an Amazon too?"

"Nope." She let the arrow fly, this one striking a Parademon in the throat.

Steve's gun was back in his hand and he followed up her arrow with a shot of his own, hitting the creature in the center of the forehead. It fractured the Parademon's faceplate and Artemis took quick advantage of the weakened armor, lodging an arrow through the narrow crack and into the monster's brain.

"Nice combo." Captain Trevor offered a brief congratulation.

"You're not a bad shot yourself." Artemis smiled back.

"You sure you're not an Amazon?" Shots at two more Parademons, targeting the foreheads.

Two more arrows striking through the weakened armor fractures. "Pretty sure."

…

NAS Pensacola, Florida

April 2 – 10:31 am

The beaches of Pensacola were empty –an odd occurrence for Florida in the early spring. Perhaps it was largely in part due to the fact that the near-by naval base was under attack by vicious monsters. People stayed in their homes, or barricaded themselves in their offices, schools went into lockdown. No one went outside.

Planes soared overhead. The air was filled with the ratatatatatat of machine-gun fire and ptu-shoooom of missiles as F/A-18 Hornets zoomed overhead to engage the enemy.

A red and yellow blur streaked down the 29-FWY, heading south towards the naval base. A few moments after the blur's passing, a sleek black motorcycle with a single masked and caped rider zoomed along the same path heading for the same destination.

The red-yellow blur reached the beach and turned, arcing its path into a circle, accelerating faster and faster until it created spiraling vortex of kicked up sand and miscellaneous beach debris. Several Parademons were caught in the cyclone and bombarded by the maelstrom of sand, kelp and driftwood. Then, at the foot of the vortex, the red-yellow blur stopped his whirling circling and struck out on a strait-line course for the Pensacola base. Some of the Parademons fell to the ground dazed and disoriented while the rest hung in the air in a confused stupor.

The fighter planes, meanwhile, took full advantage of the enemy's momentary disorientation.

The motorcycle and its rider found a ramp and launched itself into the air, the rider jumping off the biking and pulling a device from one of the many pouches from of his belt. It fired a grappling hook and line that wrapped around one of the Parademon's throat, the hook catching the creature in the teeth. The caped figure swung out and upwards, using the combined momentum of his bike's forward motion and his cable's swing to launch himself at another Parademon. He landed on the creature's back and, quickly withdrawing something else from his belt, stuck it to the monster's back before quickly jumping off again, landing on another of its fellows.

The first Parademon thrashed and snarled as it hovered in mid air, trying to pull the line and cable from his neck and mouth. The second exploded from whatever it was the caped acrobat had stuck to him. The third tumbled in the air as it tried to throw its unwanted rider.

They corkscrewed through the skies above Pensacola. The caped figure refusing to let go and the Parademon trying madly to throw him off. They thrashed through the air in a zig-zagging spiral that ultimately landed the Parademon face-first in the dirt outside the base's historic light house. The caped acrobat pulled another sticky explosive from his belt and slapped it to the creature's back before leaping clear. He did a summersault and a tumble as chunks of the monster's armor and bits of flesh went flying over him.

Climbing back to his feet, the newly arrived hero pulled his motorcycle helmet from his head to reveal himself to be Robin the Boy Wonder (as if that hadn't already been obvious from his belt and aerial acrobatics).

Two uniformed soldiers just happened to witness his landing and stood gaping at the Wonder Boy.

Robin turned to them. "Don't just stand there, soldiers!" He shouted in his best 'Batman voice'. "We're in the middle of a war here!"

The 'Batman voice', sadly, did not have much of an effect when coming from the throat of a thirteen-year-old boy and they did not move, just continued to gape.

"You're… you're Robin!" Said one of them.

The red-yellow blur zipped passed their field of vision, then swung back around and materialized next to Robin as another teenaged hero.

"And Kid Flash!" He grinned. "Hey, ya got any of those MREs? Saving the planet's hungry work."

…

Camp Pendleton, California

April 2 – 10:45 am

When one heard the word 'California' they usually thought of sandy beaches, bikini-clad bleach-blonds with plastic breasts, palm trees and Hollywood. They did not think of arid desert and dry dusty air. But that is exactly what M'gann's first impression of the state was as she and Red Tornado flew over the Camp Pendleton Marine base.

The martian girl dropped out of the red spiral of the android's cyclone and floated on the outskirts of what could only be called a 'rout'. The Marines of Camp Pendleton had no combat ready planes on base and so could not bring the battle to the enemy in the air. That was one advantage the Parademons had over them. But the Parademons also lacked projectile weapons and so to do any damage to the base at all they had to fly in low and strike fast. That was one advantage the Marines had.

M'gann watched as an M1 Abrams tank launched a shell that caught one of the creatures in the chest and exploded on contact. The charred body fell to earth with a thud that was drowned out by the noise of the rest of the battle. Red Tornado sent waves of air, so thin and traveling so fast that they might as well have been blades, into the thick of the Parademon's formation. His attack cut two of them and scattered the rest.

With her telekinesis, M'gann sent one of the creatures crashing into another two of his fellows. The three tumbled in the air, disoriented, until they saw her and suddenly she had three monsters bearing down on her. Miss Martian shifted her form to creature she wasn't actually sure existed, it was something she'd read about in a book. Her body grew larger, her limbs longer, her hands and feet ending in huge talons, large leathery wings sprouted from her back and her virescent skin was replaced by a series of armor like scales. Had anyone from the base below taken the time to remark on her appearance, it would have been to make a snarky comment about D&D tabletop role-playing.

M'gann caught two of the Parademons in her hands and, swinging them rather like rocks, crushed the third between them. She let go. All three fell to the ground in a daze. But her new larger form drew the attention of the rest of the swarm and she found a third of them had broken away from the main group and were now focused solely on her.

She shifted her form again to give them a smaller target. Her new form was a bird-like creature that used to live on Mars, small and fast, it was well suited to ducking and dodging through obstacles while staying airborne.

Red Tornado appeared to help her chew all that she'd bitten off. She created a large cyclone and sucked many of the Parademons on her upwards and sent them spiraling into the outer atmosphere.

She shifted back into her green martian form. "Thanks!"

"That is just a delay tactic." He informed her in a robotic monotone. "They will be back."

Oh, happy times. And that was just a small percentage of the main force. He might have gotten them off Miss Martian's back but that, by no means, bought them a breather (not that the android needed to breath). She glanced from the Parademon swarm to the Marines below.

"It'd be better if we collaborated with the base."

"I'll leave that to you." Tornado gave the bares of nods. "With your empathetic powers you are far better suited to interpersonal communication than I."

…

Pearl Harbor Hickam, Hawaii

April 2 – 11:00 am

"I feel like I was just here."

Aqualad swung his weapons in a wide arc, gathered a great wave of sea water as he did so. Then, then the wall of water and white sea foam was taller than the ship on which he stood, Kaldur sent the small tsunami upwards towards the swarm of Parademons. The wave broke over them in mid-air and the creatures were pulled downwards by its force and weight.

"What do you mean?"

Green Lantern, John Stewart, created a glowing green shield around one frigate that was unfortunate enough to have drifted into Parademons' drop-zone. He pulled the ship back to the rest of the fleet before manifesting a titanic sized fly swatter and batting at the rest of the creatures that had remained airborne.

"I was here last July with my King."

He manifested two water-whips and lashed out with them, wrapping one around a Parademon's throat and pulling it downwards, slamming the creature beneath the water's surface. A second Parademon landed on the carrier on which he stood and Kaldur shifted his whips to a pair of maces and engaged the monster in a series of grapples and melee attacks.

Stewart manifested a giant cage and began trapping the Parademons in it. Using a combination fly swatter and cadge technique in which he would smack the creatures into the glowing green prison (rather like golf, actually). In a matter of minuets the swarm of Parademons had been reduced to just those still under water and the one grappling with Aqualad on the aircraft carrier's open deck.

Kaldur brought both his water maces together, smashing his Parademon's face between them. The creature fell to the deck, unconscious. He looked up at the Green Lantern and John materialized a pair of man-sized glowing green tweezers to pick the monster up and add it to his collection in the cage. Aqualad then turned his attention to the few remaining Parademons under the ocean's surface. What where they doing down there?

As if in answer to this question, the ship gave a sudden lurch. Its engines stopped and its aft segment began to sink.

The young Atlantian dove over the edge to find three Parademons ripping into the aft starboard side of the ship as if it were a soup can. Bringing his water-bearers about, he sent a jet of pure shapeless seawater at the creatures to flush them away from the ship. The three swam upwards and propelled themselves out of the water. Kaldur trusted the Lantern to take care of them, he turned his attention instead to the slowly sinking ship.

Aqualad swam inside the open gash in the hull and, using his water-bearers, began pulling and pushing at the water until is slowly began to drain was out the hole through which it had come. It was heavy sorcery and placed a great strain on him. His tattoo burned on his arms and Kaldur found himself gritting his teeth against the unfamiliar sensation. Maybe after the Earth was safe he should go back to Posidonis and complete his training. Tula and Garth be dammed!

…

The Pentagon

April 2 – 10:30 am

The Pentagon was not so much a military base as it was a command center; it was the seat of the United States Department of Defense. As such, it had no on-campus weapons of its own, just a well-armed security personnel. It was in its most basic sense, a glorified office building. The Anacostia-Bolling joint Air Force Naval base was on the other side of the Potomac, the two were closes enough to one another to employ a ferry from one base to the other. But Anacostia-Bolling had problems of its own at the moment.

The sleek black outline of a Boeing F/A-XX zoomed through the air above the building, circled to get a clear view of the whole scene and then dropped a series of flash bombs into the thickest pockets of Parademons. The creatures staggered in the air, their claws going to their eyes with shock and discomfort. With the enemy now disoriented, the Boeing F/A-XX launched weighted nets and grappling hooks to further immobilize the beasts. The netted and tied Parademons were then caught by a blur of red and blue that zipped and flitted through the air like some giant patriotic humming bird.

Between the plane and the red-blue blur, the skied above the Pentagon were cleared in a matter of minuets.

The red-blue blur decelerated enough to reveal himself to be none other than the Superman and he dropped his catch of tied and netted Parademons in the center of the building's central plaza, sardonically nicknamed 'Ground Zero' by those whom worked there. The Boeing F/A-XX then dropped several large pellets that burst on contact with the ground, releasing a thick gas that knocked the monsters unconscious.

The plane landed in the southwest parking lot, the hatch popped and the Batman climbed out. Superman met him at the South Parking Entrance façade.

"Nice work with the nets and cables." Grinned the Big Blue Boy Scout.

The Batman, however, did not respond. His mouth was a thin grim line as they entered the building together and made their way to the nearest security elevator.

The Pentagon building had seven floors in total, but only five of those floors were above ground. The other two, labeled 'B' and 'M' for Basement and Mezzanine, respectively, were underground and one needed a security clearance card to access them. A member of the security staff was stationed by the elevator, he was young, late twenties maybe early thirties. Clean-cut. Ironed uniform, combed hair, strong after-shave and even stronger anti-persperant. Superman noted that his heart rate was circling the 140 range of beats per minuet –he was terrified.

The Man of Steel offered him a soft smile and a friendly hand, hoping to calm the man a little. "Hey there." He said, voice brimming with wholesome farm boy charm. "You wouldn't happen to have a card to the elevator, would ya?"

He fidgeted nervously and offered the Superman a shaky smile of apology. "With all due respect, sir, you don't have the appropriate clearance for-"

He was cut off mid-sentence by the Batman rushing forward, grabbing him by the collar of his uniform and slamming him against the wall. The Dark Knight fixed him with a steely bat-glare through the white eye-slits of his cowl and said in a low gravely growl, "Access card. Now."

As if he hadn't been scared enough already. The poor man fumbled at his belt and withdrew a plastic card on an elastic string. The Batman snatched the card from his hand and wordlessly cut the string with the bladed barbs on his gauntlet. He let the man go and pushed the button for the elevator.

"Thanks." Superman cringed apologetically. "And sorry if we scared you."

"Superman!" Snapped the Caped Crusader.

"Right, right. Coming." He hopped in the elevator next to the Dark Knight.

Batman waved the card's embedded chip in front of the reader and pressed the 'B' button for the Basement level. Nineteen-twenties music began to play as the elevator slowly descended from ground level, past M-Mezzanine and on to B-Basement. Superman tapped his foot to the rhythm of the melody.

"You actually like this song?"

The Man of Steel shrugged. "Its elevator music. Nobody likes this song. But ya gotta take time to appreciate the mundane every now and again."

"Ya know, Buddhists say that if you can louse yourself in the moment, you experience truth."

"Sounds good." Smiled the Superman. "You should try it."

The elevator halted its decent and the doors parted to reveal a war room in utter chaos.

"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood."

The pair stepped out into a flurry of activity.

Technicians and annalists hunched over consoles, supervisors and superior officers stood over them asking for updates, administrative aids ran to and fro carrying status updates, memos, reports, briefs and coffee. A number of higher ranked officers from all branches of the military stood in a glass-walled conference room looking strained and tense. Batman recognized the Secretary of Defense, General Philip Blankenship, a friend of Queen Hippolyta of Themyscira, King Faraday, an agent who's role Bruce had never really been clear on, Amanda Waller, a key player in Checkmate, the Agency, Task Force X, the Suicide Squad and the Shadow Fighters (and those were just the ones that Batman knew about), and finally there was-

"Oh no…" Superman groaned next to him. "Not General Lane."

The Caped Crusader found himself suppressing a smile at the Man of Steel's sudden discomfort. He could move mountains, deflect missiles, fly to the sun and back again in less than a day and perform any number of other near impossible or even 'god-like' feats, but he recoiled at the prospect of facing Lois Lane's father. That just goes to show that even near-immortal alien heroes were really just normal men. Of course, the fact that General Samuel Lane also hated Superman's guts might have also been a contributing factor. The Batman shrugged.

The two approached the conference room. It was the Secretary of Defense that noticed them first. He threw open the door with a sigh of exasperated relief. "Thank god you're here! We've been trying to raise the Justice League all morning. What in the name of hell is going on!"

The Batman thought momentarily about stating the obvious and informing the Secretary that it appeared to be a large-scale invasion, but he opted not to. This was not the time for jokes, nor would such a comment be in keeping with the image of Batman that he had so meticulously crafted. Also, stating the obvious was Superman's job.

"Well, Mr. Secretary, it appears to be a large-scale invasion."

And the Boy Scout did not disappoint.

It was at that moment that General Lane cut in. He pushed himself between the Secretary of Defense and the World's Finest, glaring daggers at the Superman. "Would've known you'd be the one to joke at a time like this, alien. I don't know how, but I know you're responsible for this somehow!"

"Good morning to you too, General." The Man of Steel forced a smile in return. "Lois is fine, by the way. I'm sure she'd want me to tell you 'hi' for her. She was recently nominated for another Pulitzer, maybe you read about it? It was for her article on using military rank to push personal agendas. It was rather good."

The General practically vibrated with impotent aggression and unchanneled loathing. He grit his teeth, refusing to lower his eyes to the Superman. "You stay away from my daughter."

Faraday came over and placed what might have been either a soothing or commanding hand on the General's shoulder. It was sometimes hard to tell with Faraday because his rank was always undetermined. "Gentleman," he said, "if we could maybe hold off on the personal vendetta's until after the current emergency has been dealt with. I'm sure you'll have all the time you want to glare and scowl at each other then."

Batman liked Faraday (most of the time).

General Lane stood back to let the World's Finest enter the conference room fully and they briefed the cabinet on what they knew of the situation (minus one Superboy detail), and the cabinet briefed them on what they knew of the situation.


	14. Fourteen

The Pentagon

April 2 – 11:45 am

The War Room beneath the Pentagon was filled with a steady rush of noise as communications technicians received updates from American bases, what had been hit, what hadn't, what kind of weaponry they had and if they could coordinate with other forces. Monitor screens lined that walls and displayed maps of the United States, North America and the world. Areas that had been hit were marked and color-coded by importance of the site and severity of the attack. Other screens projected video feeds of the battles, while yet others ran civilian news coverage of the attacks (on mute with subtitles).

All the noises and sounds coming from so many sources made it difficult for Clark to focus on any one thing. He concentrated on his hearing for a moment, his mind switching on that metaphorical dial that dampened his super-hearing. The War Room suddenly became nothing more than an obnoxious hum in the back of his mind. The Superman, instead, gave his attention to studying the video feeds of the battles. He was looking for one thing in particular, one person, actually. But there was no hint of a black uniform amid all that swarming green and gold. If Kon-El were participating in any of the attacks, he was keeping a low profile.

Bruce came up behind him and placed a hand on his red-caped shoulder.

Clark re-adjusted his hearing to focus only on the man that now stood next to him. It was a little difficult because he also couldn't help, letting in the rest of the War Room's den, but he tried his best to only listen to the Batman.

"Any sign of him?" He was speaking low, his mouth barely moving, and he spoke in Kryptonese. (Clark sometimes forgot that Bruce had learned to speak it, too.) Obviously, the Caped Crusader didn't want the rest of the cabinet to overhear their conversation and if they did, he was making sure they didn't understand a word of it.

"Zha." –No. Clark answered, also speaking low (though he was sure to speak loud enough for a normal human like Bruce to hear him over the background noise).

"Then put him out of your mind for the time being. When he does finally show himself you can rush off to face him without pausing to think of a plan or telling me where you're going –in classic Superman-style. But until then, I need you in the here-and-now."

Clark reached a hand behind himself to run his fingers over the MP3 playing head-phones that hung from his belt. He wanted to go look for his wayward son, not stand in a stuffy strategy room arguing over logistics and playing the blame-game with Waller and Lane. "You don't really need me here. I would do more good out in the field."

"We can debate your Messiah Complex later, too."

…

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark understood why he had been taken off the mission. But he hated being kept in the dark as to the mission's status. He was nowhere near as good a hacker as his former Teammate, Robin, (in fact, he couldn't really 'hack' at all) but he could gimmick the comm panel and rig it to a datapad he'd found in the room. That way he would have a one-way feed directly from the bridge's main control consol projected on the pad's touch-screen.

The image was a bit fuzzier than he would have liked, but it was clear enough. What was important was that Superboy-Dark now knew what was going on. He tapped the touch-screen just to see if it really was a one-way connection. His attempt made no effect. He could see and hear but not be seen or heard in return. That was fine. In fact, it was probably better that way. He was pretty sure, since being removed from the project, he wasn't actually supposed to be kept in the 'know' anymore.

The Parademon troops had seemed to be doing an adequate job. That was, until the Earth's Justice League showed up and started interfering. He would have thought that it would have taken them longer to rally. With all their bases destroyed and their teleportation wonder-tech under Granny's control, where could they have rendezvous to plan anything? The answer hit Superboy-Dark like a boot to the head –the Batcave. He never had been able to find the location of the Batman's secret hideout, the Dark Knight was far to careful for that. In a situation like the one he had created for the League, of course the Batman would be forced to use his own private base as rendezvous point for the rest of his comrades. …and aside from being in or near Gotham City, he had no idea where that base could be.

But the Superboy-Dark tried to put that thought out of his mind. There was nothing he could do about that so there was no point in worrying about it. He once again focused his attention on the battles going on Earth-side.

…

Camp Pendleton, California

April 2 – 11:23 am

"You all understand what needs to be done." Miss Martian announced in a more commanding tone than she was used to using. She offered a curt nod to the communications techs in the base's battle room and they set to work relaying her orders to their men in the field. One looked up at her with the barest hint of a question on his face, but his aura radiated a curious confusion that had nothing to do with the task at hand. "Something on your mind, soldier?"

"No, Sir, Martian Manhunter, Sir!" He answered quickly in the fashion that had been trained into him. Then paused, looked sheepish. "Its just… some of us were wondering why you're posing as a teenaged girl, Sir."

M'gann had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. She might have been on Earth for almost a year now, but working on a covert Team, she had never really been introduced to the public as Martian Manhunter's niece, in fact, she had never been introduced to the public at all. No one knew who the hell she was, all they knew was that she had showed-up with Red Tornado of the Justice League and had the Manhunter's powers. So, the obvious conclusion was that she was the Martian Manhunter in an eccentric form. She offered no explanation to the communications tech and exited the battle room to rejoin the actual battle.

Red Tornado had created a spiraling vortex of crimson colored wind that was quickly sucking all the Parademons into one area of the sky. She watched and waited, as the air currents spiraled and swirled around the enemy, forcing them into closer quarters until finally they were pressed so close to gether they couldn't fly and the only thing holding them up was Tornado's power.

She sent a thought to the communications tech. The comm officers relayed her orders to the ground tanks.

The tanks had been gathered on the field directly below the churning mass of Parademons, their barrels trained on the enemy. On Miss Martian's command they all fired at once. The sky exploded as the M1 Abrams pelted the creatures, their shells exploding on impact. Tornado released his vortex and as the smoke and crimson air cleared over a third of the monsters fell to the dirt, unmoving. M'gann wondered if they were dead or not and hoped that they weren't, League policy aside, she did not want to think of herself as a killer.

But she didn't have time to dwell on that now. They had incapacitated a fraction of the enemy's force, but two thirds still remained for them to deal with. She had to keep her head in the game.

…

Pearl Harbor Hickam, Hawaii

April 2 – 11:30

Aqualad managed to hold the water back and keep the carrier afloat long enough for the crew to evacuate. The strain from performing such heavy magic took its toll on his and when the luminescent blue glow faded from his tattoos, the marks sizzled and steamed a bit on his skin. He would not be performing any more sorcery or using his water-bearers for some time after this.

After he let go and the torrent of water came rushing back in to claim the ship, Kaldur waited a few moments for the aft bay he was in to fill with cold salty sea water, it soothed the burn in his tattoos and he breathed easier. He swam out of the wide open gash in the hull and resurfaced to find that the Green Lantern had managed to trap all of the attacking Parademons in one massive glowing green cage.

They spat and snarled and clawed in every which direction, sometimes lashing out at the cage, sometimes at each other.

Aqualad looked at the Lantern. "What do we do with them now?"

…

The Pentagon  
April 2 – 12:11 pm

"Message from Pearl Harbor!" The soundproof glass door to the conference room was thrown open by one excited looking communications officer. "One of the Green Lanterns and Aquaman's side-kick have apprehended the entire monster force that had hit the base there!"

All eyes in the room turned to him.

He was fat from a career spent at a desk, middle aged, balding, large glasses not even Clark Kent would wear and stank of nervous sweat. But he looked optimistic. He was also looking, not at the Secretary of Defense or any of his country's other military officials that were gathered in the room, but rather Batman and Superman –the World's Finest team. He was asking them what Green Lantern should do with the captured Parademons.

"How many in total?" Asked the Batman. It wasn't like they had a lot of options as far as imprisoning went and it was the League's creed that 'All life is precious', so they weren't about to kill the creatures. Bruce suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he felt an on-coming stress headache. This was one concern he'd rather not deal with.

"Some hundred." Answered the comm tech.

The Batman did not groan, but he wanted to. The Superman whistled. "That's a might large sum of POWs. And just from one battle…"

Waller stood, an opportunistic gleam in her dark eyes. "Checkmate can handle them." She announced proudly and did not give the Batman a pointed look of triumph as she passed him by. "Put me in touch with the Lantern and I'll give him the coordinates to where he can drop them."

As they exited the door was left ajar and Clark tweaked his hearing to zero in on the madness of the communications room, listening for any indication of Kon amid the chaos of the invasion. His hands gripped the blue fabric of his tights in tense apprehension as he continued to hear nothing about his wayward 'son'.

Under the table, Bruce placed one leather and Kevlar gloved hand over his and spoke in Kryptonese, "Relax. The League knows to call us the moment he turns up. There's no use worrying until then."

"Na-kluv." –Thanks. Clark muttered, not feeling reassured in the least. Just because the League hadn't spotted him didn't mean he wasn't out there and Clark wanted to make sure he got to the boy before anyone like Waller or Lane sunk their claws into him.

"Speak words we can all understand!" Snapped General Lane, not liking one bit the fact that the World's Finest had their own 'secret language' and could be plotting who-knows-what right in front of him.

…

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark's hands clenched around the datapad he had rigged up. The screen cracked slightly under the strain, but he failed to notice.

They were lousing.

The armies of mighty Darksied were lousing!

Miss Martian and Red Tornado were decimating the Parademon troopers in California, Robin alone had taken out more than a fair few in Florida (and he was just one boy with not powers!), with Kid Flash they were twice as effective. Aqualad and one of the Green Lanterns had completely subdued their forces in Hawaii. Batman and Superman… Superman and Batman… Kal and his partner had cleared the Pentagon of Parademons in less time than it took to give himself this little recap!

He should not have been removed from the mission. They needed him. If not his leadership then at the very least his powers and knowledge of the enemy. His first fight with Kal had already proved that the Man of Steel would not use his full strength against him, a handicap that gave the side of Apokolips a great advantage. Superboy-Dark tossed the datapad on the desk and punch his room's intercom for the bridge.

"This is command. Go ahead." Gilotina's young but sultry voice answered.

He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her that he could still help and to put Granny on the line. But no sound escaped his lips. He grit his teeth in frustration and tried again. No words came, just a strangled-sounding croak. Why couldn't he speak? He had been able to speak perfectly before. Heck! He'd been able to speak multiple languages before! Not just English and Kryptonese, but French and German and Spanish and Arabic and any number of other Earth-born languages. What had happened to him?

"Hello?" Gilotina continued over the comm. "Soldier, I'm having trouble reading you."

Superboy-Dark tried again. Trying his best to will the words to form.

"Li-lis…" His throat closed without the word ever being fully formed. He snarled. Tried again. Nothing but a harsh croak came out. All he was trying to say was 'Listen to me!' how hard was that? Apparently, very hard. He tried again. "Li-lis… Khap ven elir!"

So, apparently, he could only speak when he was speaking Kryptonese. Yeah, that made so much sense! He sighed and rolled his eyes. This was frustrating.

"What?" Gilotina came back, sounding impatient. "Mute, is that you? Get off the line! Stop wasting our time."

She switched off the channel and his room's intercom went dead.

In his frustration, Superboy-Dark slammed his fist into the wall beside the comm. It made a rather impressive dent in the metal plating and he stared at it for a long moment before an idea occurred to him.

…

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Lahina looked over Gilotina's shoulder as she switched off the intercom. "Was that Blue Eyes?"

The silver-haired blade master nodded.

Lashina looked up to make sure Granny wasn't paying any attention to them at present. She wasn't. Her attention was fixed on the battles going on planet side. The Ribbon Warrior looked back to her comrade. "Did he have anything useful to say?"

"Nothing I could understand."

"Then ignore him."

From where she stood watching the view screens projected around her, Granny Goodness gave a snarl of frustration. The Justice League was supposed to have been eliminated in the first phase of the invasion, that was why the Weapon had been placed in a command position in the first place! And it looked like he hadn't even been able to do that! The League was still around and still making a nuisance of itself. Without turning to look at them, Granny called over her shoulder.

"Gilotina, call in the tanks, please."

…

Anacostia-Bolling joint Air Force Naval base

April 2 – 12:20 pm

A loud BOOM rent the air, something similar to the sound barrier being broken and yet at the same time… not. All heads turned to the skies above the base to see a tunnel of light, like a tube, materialize out of nowhere. Out from this Boom Tube came, not more Parademons, but rather large hovering machines with double barreled tank-guns –Doom Tanks.

Wonder Woman paused to gape at the new foe, hovering in mid-air for a moment or two before her warrior's resolve one again hardened and with a fierce Amazonian battle cry, threw herself at the nearest of the Doom Tanks.

Down on the ground, Captain Steve Trevor loaded his last clip into his side arm. "Well, Miss Artemis, I don't suppose you've got an arrow in that quiver with an armor piercing shell?"

"No." The young archer admitted (–though it would have been interested to see how one could be fitted to an arrow without unbalancing the shaft). "But I do have this."

She withdrew an arrow from her dramatically emptied quiver, found higher ground from which to shoot (which was not difficult as the parade field had been littered with bits of enemy and airplane alike from the battle), notched the arrow to her bow, aimed at what she assumed was the tank's view port or visual feed and let the arrow fly. It sailed through the air, arched, looked like it was about to miss, then exploded, showering the front of the Doom Tank in a thick sticky-looking foam.

It wobbled in the air before coming to a standstill, still hovering but unmoving. A hatch was opened and two Parademons came out to pull at the putty Artemis' arrow had left. They were quickly cut down by Wonder Woman.

"Not bad." Trevor nodded. "How many more of those have you got?"

…

NAS Pensacola, Florida

April 2 – 12:31 pm

Kid Flash gaped up at the sky as the heavens opened up to make was for terror and destruction all wrapped up in a menacing black mechanical package. "Oh, we are so boned."

Robin placed a hand on his shoulder and hissed, "Don't say stuff like that around the troops." The Boy Wonder fished in his belt and took out a long cable. One end of this he fastened to his belt-buckle, the other end remained coiled in his hand. "Do you think you can get me up there somehow?"

Wally looked grim, his mouth set in a thin line, down turned into a frown. He regarded Robin skeptically for a moment. Robin could see the wheels in his head turning behind his eyes before, finally, he said, "With super-speed and a Bat on my side, I can do anything."

"Great!" Nodded the Boy Wonder.

"Besides," added the speedster. "If I fail, it won't matter 'cause we'll all die anyway."

…

The Pentagon  
April 2 – 12:45 pm

New reports from the field.

After the Parademons had been pushed back, with help from the Justice League, enemy reinforcements started to appear. Large, hovering tanks (for lack of a better term).

General Lane stood from the conference table, his chair tumbling over behind him, unnoticed, his eyes transfixed by the sigh on the view screens projecting in near real-time events that were taking place al over the country –all over the globe, actually. "Oh my god…"

Batman turned to the Superman and muttered, still in Kryptonese, "Still wanna go out into the field?"

"Zhi!" –Yes! And the Man of Steel was out of the room before anyone could say 'Great Scott!' with nothing more to announce his leaving than a rush of air that fluttered the Batman's cape, rustled Faraday's hair and pulled the General's hat from his white and balding head. No sooner had the Superman left, than a red-blue blur was streaking through the Anacostia-Bolling view screen, ripping gun-barrels off tanks and throwing them at yet other tanks.

Happy times.

The Batman stood and wordlessly followed him comrade out at a much more human pace.

Outside, the Dark Knight climbed into the Batwing, which had been left in the southwest lot, kicked up the engines and flew off to join the Man of Steel. The modified Boeing F/A-XX had no guns on it, the Batman detested guns in any form. It was, instead, equipped with a variety of clever gadgets rather much like its pilots own utility belt, just on a much larger scale.

Rather than shoot a missile at the Apokoliptan hover tanks or strafe them with machine gun fire, the Batwing instead launched an oddly colored pellet at one of the tank's gun barrels. The pellet burst on contact, filling barrel shaft with a sticky-gummy substance that, after a few moments exposure to the air, solidified –effectively blocking the tank's barrel so that the next time it attempted to fire, the blast was back-fired into the body of the machine, rather than at its intended target.

Superman caught the disabled tank as it fell, setting the nefarious machine down and welding the hatch shut, trapping the enemy operators inside.

…

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark paused in his ministrations to glance back at the datapad he had rigged-up. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he saw a flash and red and blue. Sure enough, when he turned to examine the feeds, there was Kal-El smashing though Doom Tanks as if they were particleboard.

He ran a finger over the cracked screen, the desire to go and stand by the Superman's side battling with the mission imperative to destroy him. Superboy-Dark stood there for a long moment, conflicting instincts raging within him. Help Kal. Kill Kal. His shoulders shook and Superboy-Dark didn't know if it was from being cooped up so long or from the internal battle of opposing imperative being waged within him. He didn't know which he should follow, which should be acted on and which should be ignored. It was like they both seemed equally vital to him, and yet they negated each other. He could not have both.

It was like something was broken in his head.

He was a clone. But Kal was his father? He had lived at the Cave. But he had also lived at the Fortress with Kal. He was bred to be a weapon. But he was a 'gift'? His sole mission was to kill Kal. But he wanted nothing more than to fly by his side as an ally. Serve Darksied. Protect Earth… What was wrong with him!

If only Granny had been able to turn Kal to their side. If only his former Team hadn't rescued him. If only this. If only that.

One thing Superboy-Dark did know for certain, he wasn't going to fulfill any of his imperative if he stayed locked in this room. Granny and Lashina wouldn't let him out? Fine. He was the clone (or possibly the son) of Superman, damn it! Doors only held him when he allowed them to!

Superboy-Dark returned his attention to the rather sizeable dent he'd already made in the state-room door. A few more power-packed punches and he'd have bent a gap large enough to fit his hand through and hit the door release from the outside. He couldn't 'hack' a door like Robin could, with a computer up-link, but he could hack a door just fine with some good ol' fashioned bruit strength.


	15. Escalation

Watchtower

April 2 - (irrelevant)

Granny Goodness watched as Superman ripped into the Doom Tanks, one after another. Bending gun-barrels, causing backfires and explosions, ripping off chunks and lobbing them at other tanks, causing yet more explosions and destruction.

The old woman heaved a sigh. Her little Weapon really should have killed him. What had ever possessed her into thinking it was a good idea to try and turn him to instead of just killing him on the spot when she realized the Weapon wouldn't? Scientific curiosity? To see what would happen when she tried to wash a mind that was fully formed and firm in who it was. Possibly. Pride? The show that she could and earn the awe and fear that would come from the achievement. Most definitely. If ever there was a single, unifying, character flaw among the people of Apokolips it was pride. Pride and greed.

Of course, now was not the time to reflect on that. She did have a battle to run.

"Lashina, dearest, would you take Gilotina and Speed Queen down there and do something about those meddlesome Leaguers." It sounded like a gentle request from the sweet old Granny, but all three knew a command when they heard one.

…

Potomac River, Virginia

April 2 – 1:15 pm

A second, smaller, Boom Tube rent the air over the Potomac River between Anacostia-Bolling and the Pentagon.

Clark paused in his artistic rearrangement of a hover-tank's anti-grav treads to pause and glare at the newest of arrivals. Bruce's Batwing continued to circle the aerial battle, if his attention had turned to the new tube, his flying did not reflect it. He appeared to remain focused.

Across the river, Diana also turned her head to assess the latest development in the battle. Though they were not near each other and weren't listening for, or could hear each other. But they spoke in unison all the same.

"Great. Now what?"

…

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark had almost punched through the door. Just a little more… one more good solid blow and-

-THERE!

He now had a hole large enough to fit his hand through. Superboy-Dark slithered his arm through the hole up to his elbow and felt up the wall outside until he found the door release to the room. Let's see… He was in Kal's quarters, and the Superman's designation was zero-one. But the code keys were four digits, not two. He supposed he could go through evey possible four-digit combination but that might be a waste of time. Superboy-Dark tried to stream-line the process.

Feeling the pad and keys with the pads of his fingers to make sure he was pressing the right number before he actually pressed it, he typed in the year Kal had arrived on Earth –the same date he claimed as his 'birthday'.

Nothing happened.

Okay then… Next Superboy-Dark tried the year Superman first appeared in Metropolis.

Again, nothing.

He tried the year of the formation of the Justice League.

Still nothing.

Okay, maybe it wasn't a date. Maybe it was an alpha-numeric cipher.

Superboy-Dark started simple, he typed in K-A-L-L.

Yeah, he hadn't expected that one to work. Kal wasn't nearly vain enough to use his own name as his keycode. He ran through a number of four letter words in both English and Kryptonese –none opened his door for him.

Superboy-Dark was about to give up on this approach and just return to punching the door in the hopes of breaking the whole thing down. But that would take so long and by the time he finally got through he would be to tired to face Kal… or fight beside him. He still hadn't decided yet.

While he debated this with himself, Superboy-Dark continued to type four letter words into the keypad. Although, these words were by no means the types of four letter words one used in polite conversation. Then, after F-U-C-K had failed (as he knew it would) but before he typed C-U-N-T, just on a lark, purely for the hell of it…

He tried K-O-N-L.

The door release clicked and the panel slid aside. Or rather, as far aside as it could go after being warped by his fist being pummeled into it repeatedly.

Superboy-Dark blinked in wonderment at the now open door. Really? Kal's passcode was his name. That was… unexpected. But he didn't have the time to sit and reflect on its deeper implications right now. He had a battle to get to. Through, he still wasn't sure just which side he was on.

…

Potomac River, Virginia

April 2 – 1:26 pm

Three women floated through the Boom Tube, suspended by flat hovering disks. Great. Just great. As if swarming Parademons and flying tanks weren't enough, they had to send three rejects from a BDSM convention.

Clark groaned. If they were gonna send in actual field commanders, he would have preferred they send Kon. He thumbed the MP3 player Bruce had made for him. He had everything he needed to bring the boy back; he just needed find and get to the boy.

His comm crackled and then Bruce's voice in his ear said, "I recognize one of them as the one you and Flash fought in Central yesterday. She has super-speed, but didn't seem to display any other powers. I don't know about the other two."

"Which is the speedster?" Clark asked.

There was a sound that we are not going to call a growl of frustration, rather, let us call it the Batman's 'Clark why do you ask stupid questions with obvious answers' noise. "Which one do you think? The one with tank-treads on her feet!"

Clark looked back. Okay, so that one he had to keep off her feet as much as possible and hope she didn't know how to vibrate her molecules through or around things. (Also, it would be nice to go through at leas one fight with a speedster where someone did not make a bawdy joke about the word 'vibrate'.) He surveyed the other two.

"You better let me take the one with the rhythmic ribbon things, Bruce." He began in his 'serious' voice, but then transitioned into his light-hearted 'things aren't all that bad, chin up' voice when he continued. "If you go up against her, she might end-up as your next girlfriend."

Clark waited.

Apparently, the Batman was not even going to dignify that with a response.

That was fine. The comment had been made. First, Selina Kyle and then that brief bout of 'romantic interest' between him and Diana, everyone had just sort of decided that the Batman subscribed to a certain fetish that will not be elaborated on more than what has already been said. …Mostly, just because they were in the midst of a battle at present and hadn't the time for teasing.

The Batwing banked left, swung around and launched three nets. Not a one of them managed to catch its intended quarry. The trio scattered, each woman zooming away on her hover disk in a different direction.

The Speed Queen headed down, towards the ground where she could use her super-speed and didn't have to depend on her hover disk in combat. Lashina headed east across the Potomac towards Anacostia-Bolling. Superman followed her, as he'd said, he would take her. Gilotina flew up, into the path of the afternoon sun and Batman lost sight of her. Clever girl.

Bruce did not like lousing sight of his enemy. He felt the hairs stand up on the back on his neck and his grip tightened on the Batwing's controls. After a moment's visual scan of the horizon and skies, he decided that normal human eyes weren't going to cut it and he flipped a switch on a side panel. A small area of his cockpit's glass canopy was suddenly illuminated by a holographic display of the aerial battlefield in three dimensions with a wonderful three hundred and sixty-five degree view. He might not have Clark's super-senses, but with some imagination, ingenuity and money, he could make just as good.

On the readout, Clark was marked in blue, one fast-moving blue dot that zipped and flitted and zoomed around the battle –just generally being super (which, when the Batman said it, did not mean what you think it means). Across the river at the naval base was another blue dot of a different shade identified as Wonder Woman. Right, he'd forgotten that he'd given her this assignment because it was the base her more-than-a-friend but less-that-a-boyfriend was stationed. A green dot marked Artemis on the parade field, the young archer must have run out of arrows by now. What was she fighting with?

Small, bright yellow dots gathered in swarms, those marked the Parademons. The hover tanks were larger dots in orange. The three women, just newly arrived, they were red. One red dot was moving so fast it appeared as a line on his readout. Zooming and zipping around the Pentagon building, just generally making a nuisance of herself. Bruce wondered if she was trying to find a way into the war room below or if she was just trying to stir up a big noisy mess simply for shits and giggles. A second red dot was grappling with Clark –the one with the ribbon-like weapons. Bruce suppressed the urge to humph. He did not have a fetish for whip or rope wielding women. Two cases was not a pattern! The third red dot…

…The third red dot was on his flank, right in his blind spot!

It took the Dark Knight less than a moment to register all of this. However, it was still to late. With her bare hand –her bare blade-like hand- the young Apokoliptan woman sliced off one of the Batwing's wings. Cut it clean off. It fell one way. The Batwing started to fall the other.

…

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Superboy-Dark made sure the oxygen mask was secure over his nose and mouth before stepping into the air-lock. He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves when the air-lock's inner door shut and locked behind him and the countdown to the outer door's release began. He might be almost as invulnerable as Superman. He might be perfectly fine surviving in freezing space so long as he had sufficient air supply. But that didn't mean he had to like space travel.

It had been a shock to him when Kal had dragged him out that first time. He was sure his body would depressurize and his blood would boil out of his ears. But it didn't. Neither had he frozen instantly. Neither had the utter lack of any sort of gravitational orientation given him vertigo or made him sick. He had been fine that first time, he would be fine now.

Looking back, it was stupid to have been frightened. Superman could survive in space and he was Superman's clone… or his son. So, it was safe to infer that he, too, could survive in space. He should have known that. Why hadn't he known that? Come to think of it, he also probably should have known that the Robin would carry a weapon that could be used against him, because it was a bit of a 'public secret' within the Justice League that Batman carried a weapon that could be used against Superman. What had it been called? It began with a K, he was pretty sure of that…

His train of though was rather quickly and suddenly derailed, however, when the outer door of the air-lock was released and the Superboy-Dark was sucked out into space.

Without a flight ability, there was no way of him maneuvering freely within the vacuum, but he had planned ahead. Before the force of the chamber's depressurization could pull him to far out and send him spinning off into the void forever, the Superboy-Dark snagged his hand on the open clasp –the door's locking mechanism. With a firm grip on a piece of the station, he pulled himself back to Watchtower and, making hand-holds for himself by digging his fingers into the outer paneling, crawled along the outer hull until he was on the Earth-facing side.

He would only get one shot at this, so Superboy-Dark paused to study his target critically. The northern hemisphere was facing him on a slight axis. The rough outline of North America was just visible to him under slight cloud cover. He did not have his father's (his genetic donor's?) telescopic vision, but his eyes were still very good and he squinted, sharpening his vision as best he could to get a clear view of the area below him.

Boom Tubes glowed well within the atmosphere. One in the panhandle of Florida, two in Virginia. While it was a little far from his sight, he knew there were others in California, and Hawaii. But Kal would be in Virginia. He had seen him on the battle-feeds he'd jacked into.

Superboy-Dark positioned himself so that he was aiming himself at the American north-east. Admittedly, it was a small target in a large area and he was trying to hit it from an almost unfathomable distance. But it was also his best method of getting back to Earth, back to where Kal was. He wanted to see Kal. He wanted to hug him… and he wanted to punch him in the throat.

He would only get one shot at this…

Superboy-Dark bent his knees. Focused his eyes on the Atlantic Corridor. Muttered a short prayer, not to Darksied or the Gods of Apokolips, but to the Sun God Rao…

…and jumped.

He sailed through the finite space that stretched between Earth and the Watchtower, his acceleration not changing from the moment he kicked off the station. Coasting in a single strait line through a vast chasm of emptiness. NASA said space travel was rather like swimming and they trained their astronauts and cosmonauts in gigantic swimming pools. But Superboy-Dark disagreed. It wasn't like swimming at all. In fact, there wasn't really any action on Earth that it could be compared to because it was not an action that was possible on Earth. One could not use similes to describe motion in a vacuum. Perhaps that had been what scared him the first time –he had never experienced anything like it before, it was knew and unknown.

Now it was exhilarating!

It was the ultimate freedom. He was weightless –utterly and completely. Everything was open and clear. There wasn't anything on Earth to compare it to except maybe flying. Not flying on an airplane or in Miss Martian's bio-ship, no. But flying like how Kal flies. Flying free and unburdened under your own power. Where the skies were clear and open and seemed to stretch on for miles until the brilliant blue faded and gave way to an infinite black. Superboy-Dark liked that mental image. There was something… stirring about it.

He experienced something similar to that mental picture only in reverse. Drawing closer to Earth, his acceleration increased, pulling him down faster and harder. His body plummeted through the layers of atmosphere, making him feel hot. His battle suit steamed at the joints and he became startlingly aware that he was sweating. The oxygen mask on his face began to melt, its streaming droplets burning up in the atmosphere until they were nothing more than mere gas molecules amid an entire sphere of such gases. It suddenly became hard to breath and the Superboy-Dark began to question the wisdom of this plan.

He felt no pain. He was hot and the heat was causing him to perspire, but he was otherwise unharmed by the entry. He held his breath. Once he cleared the outer atmosphere he'd be able to breath again. He squinted his eyes ahead of him at the landscape rushing up to meet him.

To far north!

His aim had been off after all. He had shot himself at the Atlantic Corridor of the American North east, but while the target had seemed small and easy to hit from space, it was in actuality a very large and expansive area once you got dirt-side. He was plummeting to the Corridor, as he'd planned, but not an area of the Corridor anywhere near Virginia, the Pentagon, or Kal. He suppressed the urge to swear as the coast of Delaware grew ever closer, rushing up to meet him with an eager embrace.

He landed in Hobs Bay, just off from Metropolis and sent a massive wave crashing through the Bay area and surrounding city blocks.

…

Potomac River, Virginia

April 2 – 1:45 pm

Batman ejected from his ruined and crashing Batwing without another moment's pause. He was not the type to become overly attached to equipment or vehicles. If he did give the destroyed plane a second thought it was only to wonder how he could slip the cost of constructing a new one into Wayne Corp.'s quarterly report without raising to many eyebrows.

The woman with the blade-like hands was one him nearly the moment he had cleared the plane, slashing her fingers through the fabric of his out-spread cape. –The Batman began to fall.

He remained calm. Plummeting from great heights was nothing new to him and he hadn't ever hit the ground yet. He was confident in his ability to stay alive (but not overly so).

Reaching into his belt, Bruce withdrew his grappling gun. This he fired past the woman on her hover disk and at a circling Parademon. The hook caught the creature in the jaw like a fish and it struggled to free itself from the hook and line. But for the moment it gave the Batman the life-line he needed to swing himself on top of the nearest hover tank. His boots gave him firm traction and it took the Dark Knight only a moment to find his balance. His feet on mostly solid ground now ('ground' being a relative term) he assessed his enemy.

Her power was blade-like hands. Okay, he could deal with that. Since she had to use one of those hover disks, it was safe to assume she couldn't fly either. Since she was coming back in for more close quarters combat, it was also safe to assume she had no projectile or long-range weapons or powers. The Batman did not smirk, but one corner of his mouth did turn upwards with confidence. He would have the upper hand in this fight. It wouldn't take long.

Superman, meanwhile, grappled with the Ribbon Warrior woman.

She was quick and agile, and she was much stronger than a normal human. Her whips stung something awful when they connected with the Man of Steel's skin. But she was not nearly as quick as he was. She was not nearly as strong. While her whips hurt, they didn't do much damage. But the biggest advantage Clark had over her was that he could fly and she could not.

He knocked her off her hover disk easily enough, but she responded quickly by wrapping one of her whips around his neck and swinging herself up onto his back. Straddling his ass, with one whip around his throat, and then quickly looping the other through his jaw, Lashina rode him rather like a horse.

Needless to say, Clark did not take kindly to this. He veered into a barrel role, spinning and quark screwing through the air in an effort to throw her off while his hands clawed at the thin ribbon-like bindings. The one in his mouth was the most bothersome and he bit down on it hard, hoping to snap the material with his teeth. But it proved just a bit to strong, so he pulled on one of the ends. Tugging it roughly and with his teeth still clamped down, the material was strained, began to tear, snapped.

The Ribbon Warrior was thrown off balance, suddenly finding that she had nothing to hold onto and she went flying off. To the accompaniment of the obligatory pun, "Get off my back!"

Clark caught her before she could fall very far, however. Holding her by the high collar of her uniform, they ascended up. She wasn't from Earth, so there was no reason to assume she would be affected by thinner air higher up, but it was worth a try. If she passed out, hurray! One less baddie to worry about today. If she didn't, well, there was always the old fashioned smack-down.

They climbed high above the battle. Finally, it became apparent that she wasn't going to louse consciousness any time soon. The woman looked at him in confusion.

He glared at her. "Where's Kon-El?"

Her confusion deepened, but she covered it quickly with a sneer of bravado. "Who?"

Clark found himself suppressing a snarl. "The Superboy clone." He growled, his face mere millimeters from hers, his crystal-blue eyes glaring daggers into her own dark eyes. "Why isn't he out here with the rest of you?"

Her sneer turned into a scathing smirk. "He was a naughty boy, so Granny sent him to his room."

Off in the distance there was a sonic boom, as of something entering Earth's lower atmosphere. Probably another enemy wave. Was there ever an end to all this? He returned his attention to the Ribbon Warrior. "What's that now?"

"Don't look at me." She shrugged in his grip. "That wasn't one of ours."

This time Clark did snarl. He thought momentarily about dropping the woman and just letting her plummet downward. The fall probably wouldn't kill her. Aliens had a propensity to not only survive but also casually brush off things that would turn normal humans into chili con carne.

Then his comm buzzed.

The woman took advantage of the momentary distraction to swing both her legs up, plant her feet squarely on his chest and kick away hard. Clark loosed his grip on her and she fell away earthward. He cursed in Kryptonese and dove after her. One hand went to answer his still buzzing comm as he went into a nosedive.

"This is Superman. I'm kinda busy."

"So am I." Bruce's voice growled over the channel. There was a pause filled with the huffing and grunting of hand-to-hand combat, the whistle of air as something was suddenly falling, the firing of a grappling hook and another grunt. Then Bruce was back. "I just thought you should know, Wayne Tech satellites tracked an object entering Earth's atmosphere a minuet ago."

Clark reached the falling Ribbon Warrior, grabbing her by the ankle. "I heard it. So?"

Bruce took his sweet time answering. Superman scanned the battle for a moment before finding the Batman hanging by a grappling line attacked to one of the hover tanks. The silver-haired woman circled him on her hover disk, her blade-like hands barred threateningly. Bruce looked calm, like he had everything under control. But why risk it? Still holding her by the ankle, Clark threw the Ribbon Warrior at the other woman. They both went tumbling off the blond's hover disk and to the ground.

"Not that I needed it, but thanks for the assist." Bruce said, and he could see the Dark Knight flash a quick thumbs-up before turning his hands to pulling his back up onto the hover tank. "The reason you might be interested in this object, is because Alfred says the satellite images looked almost human, and its trajectory could back backtracked to Watchtower's coordinates."

"You think it might be Kon!" Clark's hand closed around the MP3 player he still carried on his belt. "Where did he land?"

He could hear Bruce's smirk when the Caped Crusader answered, "You're gonna love this. He landed in Metropolis."


	16. Canon Reprise

Metropolis

April 2 – 2:00 pm

An object roughly the size of a basketball, when falling from space, can cause waves as high as forty feet when dropped in the ocean. An object roughly the size of a sixteen-year-old boy, when falling from space, causes waves dramatically larger.

Seawater washed over the bay area, flooding into the city. Boats were lodged into buildings. Smaller, lighter structures were washed away. People were dragged down by the surf.

Lois Lane's tires screeched on the pavement as she slammed her foot down on the break, pushing the pedal to the floor and throwing herself and Jimmy hard against their seatbelts. She kicked the car into reverse and drove backwards as fast as possible until she turned into a large parking structure. She did not stop until they had reached the roof-level of the solid concrete structure and the tidal wave was not-quite-harmlessly beneath them. The structure rocked slightly with the force, but remained otherwise undamaged. Lois heaved a sigh and took several calming breaths.

Never a dull day in Superman's town (whether he was actually in-town or not).

She took one more deep breath just to make sure she actually was calm before turning to Jimmy to ask, "What do ya think, mad scientist's under water base, aquatic alien visitor, marauding space bounty hunters, or Aquaman on his man-period?"

Jimmy took a bit longer to get his own nerves under control. He was a veteran side-liner to super-events but he lacked Lois' background, coming from a military home, and her under-developed sense of self-preservation. When he could finally get his voice under control enough to answer, he said, "I think it's amazing I don't have a nervous condition from living here, Ms. Lane."

She patted him on the shoulder. "Good man, Jimmy. Now get that camera out. We've got us another front page story that's just landed in our lap and Perry's gonna want photos of the whole thing."

The intrepid photographer unbuckled his seatbelt and reached behind his seat to retrieve his camera bag. They had been on their way to cover a union strike at the docks and so the camera was equipped with a short range, low aperture lends. But Jimmy switched it out for a telephoto easily enough and soon had climbed out of the car and was standing (at a conservative distance) from the parking roof's concrete railing, shooting three-hundred and sixty degrees of views of the disaster.

"Jee, Ms. Lane," he commented, "think of all the people that might've gotten caught in that."

"Camera on the action, Jimmy." She snapped quickly. But her cell phone was already to her ear –already ringing. "Lucy, its Lois, just checking to see if you're okay. I'm fine. Got other calls to make. Bye." She ended the call and pressed another speed-dial. "Clark! Just wanted to see if you're alive. Don't drown or I'll never be able to get you back for stealing that first Superman story! Bye." Hang up. A third speed-dial. "Perry, I'm already on in. Jimmy's with me. Stopping the presses is advised."

That done she returned her attention to the general chaos around her. She leaned over the concrete railing of the parking roof to get a better look at what had once been Hobs Bay and the surrounding area.

"And me without my swimsuit…"

…

Metropolis

April 2 – 2:15 pm

Mud was thick and heavy around him. Not because it was actually heavy, but because the force of his fall combined with the wet muck created a suction that pulled him down –his under-water crater filling in and burying him only seconds after impact. Superboy-Dark struggled to free himself from the bottom of the bay and when he was free up to his waist, he pushed up off the floor and propelled himself upwards.

He broke the surface with a gasp. Gulping in air greedily. Even kryptonians needed to breath.

Floating there, laying on the surface, he took a few moments to just breath. Gazing up at the slightly gray-blue overcast sky. He had landed in Delaware, he was sure of that. He had over-shot his target, landing just north of it instead. Superboy-Dark turned his gaze to the coastline to get his bearings and gauge just how far he'd have to go jumping before he got to Virginia.

The Metropolis skyline glinted back at him, its sparkling spires of steel and glass reflecting the dim afternoon sun.

Metropolis. That wasn't so bad.

Striking out with long strokes, Superboy-Dark swam to shore. What he found there was not what he had expected. The City of Tomorrow was completely flooded. Well, the bay area was flooded. It would take a tsunami far larger than anything he could have created to water-log the whole city (it was just to big), but all of Hobs Bay and much of the surrounding area was water-logged.

A moment of decision passed. His mind and body torn on the edge of a cusp.

Serve Darksied… Protect Earth…Leave Metropolis as it was and find Kal… Stay and do what he could to help… Kill Kal… Help Kal… Be the weapon he had been created to be… Be a hero like he wanted to be…

He stood, frozen in the chest-deep waters of Harbor Rd. Indecisive. And then… he heard a gurgle, sputter, cough… then just bubbles. Another gurgle, sputter cough, bubbles. Someone was near by, trapped by the sound of it, under the water and struggling to breath!

Superboy reacted instantly. He didn't think, he just acted. Following the sound, he found an over-turned boat-trailer –the kind people used to hitch smaller privately owned boats to their cars (the boat itself was nowhere to be found). With one hand he lifted the trailer, flinging it out to sea, and lifted a middle-aged man from beneath it. He coughed and heaved and wheezed, but he was breathing –he was alright.

"Thank you, Superman!" He gasped out when he could. If he noticed that Superboy-Dark was far younger than the older man in his prime that the city was used to seeing or that Superboy wore black rather than blue and red, he did not comment. His life had been saved and that made his rescuer super.

That was it. That was what did it.

Superboy-Dark made his decision. He would do what he could to help Metropolis, to save the city from this disaster (of his own making, though he was oblivious to that fact), and then he would track down and face Kal… and kill him. Once Kal was gone, then he could be the Superman, and in so doing he could fulfill both of his imperatives. Serve Darksied… Protect Earth…

…

Potomac

April 2 – 2:15 pm

Clark shot off the moment Bruce told him the object that had touched down in Hobs Bay might be Kon. He didn't pause to hear any other details the Dark Knight might have thought to share. If there was anything else important that he needed to know, his comm was on and the League could call him at any time. His main focus now was getting to his wayward son before anything else happened, shoving the headphones over his ears and wiping the enemy's mind-control from his brain. That was his priority, everything else came secondary.

The Batman, for his part, didn't even try to tell Clark to wait, slow down, lets think for a moment. As he had said in the Basement of the Pentagon building, he could rush off without pausing to think of a plan or even giving anyone else on his team a heads-up that he was taking off –in classic Superman fashion. If the Caped Crusader did react in any way, it was to grunt slightly. Of course, that might also have been the result of the Ribbon Warrior's most recent attack. Really, it was sometimes hard to tell with him.

…

Metropolis

April 2 – 2:20 pm

It was Lois' job to report the news, not make the news or be the news. However, this was a distinction she had come to ignore more and more over the years since Superman first appeared in Metropolis. She and Jimmy had descended from their parking structure haven down to street-level and were making their way through the (currently) knee-deep water of Harbor Rd. Towards the considerably deeper water of the bay area. It was slow goings, not only because they had to navigate through murky waters, dodging debris of every possible variety, but also because every time they found another person, the pair of them had to stop and help.

It was impossible to be friends with Superman and not develop the instinct to help others (and it was an instinct, not a habit or a tendency –it was like a drive).

Lois used a broken segment of… something to break the glass of a car's back windshield. She hammered at the tough safety glass a few more times until the hole was large enough for the woman and her two children trapped in the car to climb out. Youngest first, followed by her older sister, then the mother –all the while cautioning them against the broken glass. They were relatively calm considering all three of them had just been liberated from a half-submerged car. They must be locals. This theory was confirmed only moments later when the kids excitedly asked if Superman was fighting anyone and if they were gonna be on the news.

Jimmy, meanwhile, had his hands full with a man that was most decidedly an out-of-towner. It was not the small luggage case he was holding with a white knuckled death-grip that gave it away, nor was it the tourist map in his water-logged chest-pocket (although, these were indicators). No, the thing that convinced Jimmy he was not from around here was that he was utterly and completely and witlessly hysterical. Jimmy tried to get him up and to higher ground, but all he did was sit there and shiver, clutching his luggage case and muttering gibberish. Eventually, Lois and the family she had just rescued had to come over to help him.

This was the fashion in which the intrepid reports made their way into deeper waters, heading towards the bay to get their story.

While they were doing that, Superboy-Dark was wading his way farther inland, silently helping people as he went –already trying to fulfill his role as the new Superman for after he killed Kal.

Inevitably, they met in the middle.

An over-turned bus was blocking their path, preventing Lois and Jimmy from traveling any further down Harbor Rd. Jimmy suggested backtracking to find another rout to the bay that detoured around the blockade, but Lois insisted they find a way through. She soldiered on, climbing from a parked car that had been pushed up onto the sidewalk, then onto the bus –doing all of this in her heels and a skirt, I might add. Her heel caught in one of the bus' windows and she went tumbling over the other side, and would have been impaled on the broken remains of a Stop sign jutting up out of the water had she not been caught in two strong and very familiar feeling arms.

Lois instantly relaxed. Everything would be fine now. He was here.

Brushing her dark hair back out of her face and fluttering her long lashes, she gazed up at her rescuer and said, "Thank you, Supe- You're not Superman!"

"Nazgen khap." –I will be.

Lois blinked. She had no idea what he'd said, but she recognized the language as the same thing the robots at Superman's Fortress of Solitude spoke. It was Kryptonese. Had this been ten years ago, that knowlage would have comforted her, but she'd been captured, kidnapped, threatened, played and used by to many kryptonians, copies and imposters over the years to instantly trust a new kryptonian that just showed up out of the blue –especially one that spoke Kryptonese instead of English. No matter how much like Superman he looked.

Lois struggled in his arms.

He put her down.

"You didn't come from the Phantom Zone, did you?"

He gave her a blank stare. Either he didn't understand English or had no idea what the Phantom Zone was.

"Okay, different question: What's your opinion of Zod?"

Another blank look. Even if he didn't understand English, if he did come from the Phantom Zone, he should have definitely recognized the name 'Zod'. Okay, so he wasn't a kryptonian criminal. That was something… right?

"Ms. Lane? Are you okay?" Jimmy called from the other side of the bus.

"I'm fine, Jimmy!" She answered. Then, turning back to the young kryptonian whom looked so much like her own Superman she asked directly, "Who are you?"

Before the boy could answer, a very familiar and very welcome red and blue figure landed (rather abruptly) on his other side.

"Kon!" Superman all but barked.

Lois watched as the boy turned to face the Man of Steel. "Ukr-kah."

They obviously knew each other. But how they knew each other or what their real relationship exactly was could be anyone's guess. Lois' reporter's instinct practically hummed with excitement at this newest of Superman stories that had dropped into her lap. Really, sometimes she couldn't decide which she loved more, Superman –the man himself, or Superman –the stories she (almost exclusively) got to write about him. If only Clark hadn't beaten her to that very first Superman story a little over twelve years ago, she'd be the singular expert on all things Super (discounting Superman himself, of course).

"Lois, please move back." Superman called to her. He had long since given up asking her to get out of the area when things looked to be heading for a fight. Lois Lane never ran from a story. So, instead of saying 'get out of here', his standard warning became 'move back' or 'get back' depending on his level of agitation or how much of a threat he felt the opponent was. In this case, he did not feel very threatened, but was aware that the boy still presented a real danger.

Lois had to wonder just who the boy was. He really did look a lot like Superman. It was uncanny. They could almost be twins… except that the boy was so much younger than him.

"I don't want to fight you, Kon." He continued. "But I will if I have to. So please come quietly."

'Kon', so that must be his name. Lois pursed her lips as she climbed back onto the bus, found a semi-comfortable sitting position and pulled her notepad and a pen out of her purse. She made a note of the young stranger's name and noted that while most kryptonian names came in two parts separated by a hyphen, 'Kon' could not have been a complete name. That meant that Superman was either calling him by his surname or 'dynasty' (as he had done with Zod), which would imply they were not friends. Or, he was calling the boy by his given name without the dynasty attached, which would imply that they were intimately acquainted. As Lois understood it, only close friends and family referred to one another by their given names without their dynasty.

Just who was this boy? An estranged cousin whom had by some miracle also escaped the destruction of krypton and just so happened to fall to Earth? That sounded silly. What were the chances of that?

Well, Superman may not want to fight, but it looked like Kon certainly did. The two squared off against one another, just as Jimmy managed to climb up onto the bus next to her.

"Who's that?"

"I think his name's 'Kon'."

"He looks like Superman."

"I know."

"I mean really."

"I noticed."

"You think they could be related?"

"Camera on the action, Jimmy."

Lois watched as Kon lunged for the Man of Steel. But her Superman was far to fast for him and swerved to the side, smacking the boy down into the waist-deep waters of Harbor Rd. Well, he might be kryptonian, but he certainly wasn't as fast as her Superman was, or Zod had been. Maybe because he was so much younger? Or had he not been on Earth long enough to absorb enough yellow sunlight? She made a note of his lack of abilities on her pad along with the two possible explanations, reminding herself to look into it more indepthly later.

The kid knelt down, reaching deep under the water and pulled out a hubcap. He flung the disembodied car part at the Man of Steel like a frisbee, or an over-sized ninja star. Superman caught it effortlessly, tossing the disk aside like a used sock without a mate. But Kon didn't seem perturbed, in the half-second that the Man of Tomorrow was distracted he leapt into the air, coming back down on the older man's shoulders and slamming them both into the flooded street. The kid held him down, keeping his face under the surface –trying to drown him.

Lois anxiously bit her bottom lip. She knew her Superman had fought and endured much worse than this little punk, but that didn't mean that the sight of him in any kind of trouble didn't worry her. Her anxiety was unfounded, however, as the Man of Steel rolled over in the water, tangling his feet in the younger man's legs and sending him tumbling down into the water next to him. Superman regained his footing with a gasp.

He grabbed the kid by the back of his black costume and pulled his head above the water.

"Kon, I don't want to go through this with you a second time." Superman was saying. "I wasn't serious about fighting you the first time because I didn't want to hurt you, but if we continue like this you will get hurt."

So, Superman had fought the kid already. She made a note of that on her pad. Lois considered also noting that he was concerned about hurting the boy, but then again, her Superman was always so kind and caring that he worried about everyone and never wanted to hurt anyone –not even the enemies he fought.

The boy responded in Kryptonese, but Lois couldn't understand what was said. Her Superman had never deigned to share his language with her. But she did note that the kid kept calling Superman one word in particular. 'Ukr-kah.' She didn't know what it meant. If it was a derogatory term or meant something else, but she jotted it down all the same. One never truly knows what is and isn't important until it becomes important or is rendered irrelevant.

"Hey," Jimmy nudges her slightly, "remember last year in August? There was some incident at the Bay Bridge."

"Kinda." She admitted. "Something about the cables snapping or the support pillars breaking or something like that. Superman saved the bridge and everyone on it though."

Kon tried elbowing Superman in the face, but the Man of Steel caught the raised arm before the blow could connect and gave the boy a stern, reprimanding look of disapproval. Why was he even bothering being disciplinary and reprimanding with an enemy? Just who was this kid?

"Yeah, well, Perry sent me to cover it –kinda after the fact- and witnesses said there was a second meta there. A boy wearing the S-shield on his T-shirt who was almost as strong as Superman. Strong enough to lift sedans at least."

Lois returned her attention to the new kid. He was not wearing a T-shirt at all. In fact, his clothing did not resemble anything found on Earth. Skeptically, she asked, "You think he could be the same kid?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Maybe."

The kid, meanwhile, was currently being held by Superman in a position known as the 'bucket-handle', pinned against a surface (usually a wall) in this case the wind-barrier of a bus stop, his arm twisted painfully behind his back. Well, that hadn't taken long for her Superman to overpower him. But, then again, he was Superman. The kid didn't stay pinned for long though.

He kicked one foot backwards, the heel of his boot connecting with that most sensitive of places between the legs and –if Superman's sudden and pained "oof!" of alarm was any indication- connected rather hard. This Kon certainly didn't seem to have any qualms about fighting dirty. Superman let go of the kid and staggered a few paces backwards, cursing a string of kryptonian swears in a voice that was an octave or two higher than usual.

Kon took full advantage of the older man's stagger. He followed up his cheap crotch-shot with a punch to the gut, a left hook to the side of the face and an upper-cut to the jaw. Lois gasped as she watched her Superman get knocked off his feet by this punk kid in his red and black emo-goth Tron suit. The Man of Steel fell to the ground with a splash, but before he could recover, Kon was on his again.

Straddling the Superman, the kid held him down, closing his hands around the older man's throat. Trying to strangle the life out of his while forcing his head back under the water at the same time. It was then that Lois realized, he might look like a punk kid, but he was intent on killing the Man of Steel. Upon realizing that, our girl-reporter didn't think, she just reacted.

Seizing the closest thing to her (which happened to be a broken piece of brick), she lobbed it at the boy's head. He air was good and the projectile connected with the boy's ear. Kon turned to glare at her, but it was the glare one gave to a moth they were to lazy to squash –she wasn't worth his trouble, he'd probably forgotten all about her until her brick so eloquently reminded him that he had an audience.

But the distraction had helped her Superman. With the brief shift in attention, the kid's grip had loosened and his the last breath of air that had been left in his lungs before being forced under, the Man of Tomorrow let out a strong gust of his cold breath. The water directly over his face spraying upwards and freezing into solid ice. The result was a shaft of dry frozen water through which he could take a breath or two before Kon smashed it in frustration.

The kid grabbed one of the ice shards and tried to stab the Superman with it, but it just shattered uselessly on his chest. He was the Man of Steel, after all, and it was just ice. The Superman grabbed Kon's now empty hand by the wrist and rolled them both over, shoving the kid's face into the flooded street. He didn't hold him under the water long, just long enough to get a solid grip on both the boy's hands with only one of his own.

With the other hand, the Man of Steel reached behind himself to pull something from his belt that had been hidden by his cape. This piqued Lois' interest because Superman almost never carried things on his belt. That was a Batman thing, and while they did hangout a lot, she had never known either of them to swap habits. He withdrew what looked like ordinary noise canceling headphones. Well, that was an odd thing to carry. What did he plan to do with those?

"This is gonna hurt and I'm sorry about that, Kon." He said before jamming the headphones over the boy's ears and flicking a switch that Lois couldn't see. She knew there must have been one, however, because she saw his finger motion.

Kon let out a yelp of pain, his body suddenly jerking violently. Superman held him, hugging the boy to his chest in what might possibly have been intended to be comforting. Kon screamed and thrashed. Superman kept one arm wrapped firmly around the boy's shoulders while the other readjusted the headphones every now and again to make sure they stayed on and the boy's jerking didn't throw them off.

She climbed down from the bus, back into the water and waded over to them.

"Lois, I need you to stay back right now!" He snapped at her, voice laced with concern, though she didn't know if it was concern for her, the boy or both of them. Probably both of them considering that it was Superman.

…And then, the boy stilled. His cries ceased, his thrashing stopped, his body going still in Superman's arms. Unconscious.

Superman sagged with relief. "Thank Rao."

It was then that Lois resumed her approach. Coming up beside the Man of Steel she said, "He looks… like you." And then mentally kicked herself in the head for stating something so glaringly obvious. Great job, Lois! You'll really win a Pulitzer for that one. Then she asked, "Who is he?"

Superman was a long time in answering. He gathered the boy in his arms, expression shifting from hesitant, to guilty, to resigned. Finally he said, "He's… my son."

"What?"

He flew away.

"What!" Lois exclaimed a second time. "Come back here and say that again!"


	17. Contretemps

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Granny growled in frustration.

There was an old axiom here on planet Earth, 'If you want something done right, you have to do it your self.' It seemed that the old saying was ringing quite true for her at this very moment. She had thought the Weapon, with his knowledge of Earth and its defenses and his programmed loyalty to Darksied, would he been able to lead off the invasion. But no. He got distracted by his obsession with the Superman.

But no matter. The show must go on! So, she had taken over control and gone ahead with the second wave, sending Parademon contingents to the major military bases all over the Earth (with an emphasis on the United States as that seemed to be a seat of the Justice League). But when the Parademons started failing, Granny had been forced to send in her Female Furies to do the job. Now it appeared that Lashina and her girls still were not enough to defeat one little man in ballet tights and a bat-mask.

Granny growled again, this time with resignation. 'If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.'

…

The Potomac River, Virginia

April 2 – 3:00 pm

Wonder Woman grappled with Lashina, golden lasso against ribbon whips. Both women tumbling together in a mass of feminine curves, tangled cords and exposed skin. One of Lashina's whips struck Wonder Woman hard against the thighs, raising a bright red welt on the amazon's otherwise unblemished flesh. Diana coiled her lasso around the Ribbon warrior's shoulders, pressing her breasts together uncomfortably. There was much grunting and yelping. It was the kind of babe-fight men fantasized about, made all the more alluring by the simple fact that not a bit of it was intentionally meant to be. In fact, both women were blissfully oblivious of this fact. It was a real shame then, that everyone failed to notice them amid the rest of the chaotic battle that raged around them.

The Batman had finally subdued the Speed Queen. Her legs and arms were tied with the cable the Caped Crusader had originally designed to trap the Superboy. The alien woman might be strong, but she couldn't break something that had been designed to withstand kryptonian strength. Speed Queen was down and out and not going anywhere. The Dark Knight then returned his attention to Gilotina. He clutched one sharp-edged baterand in each hand, and wielded them rather like small dueling knives rather than shurinkenjutsu throwing weapons. The white-blond Fury had only her hands, her deadly blade-like hands. The two were about to rush each other, but froze mid-charge, their attention shifting as the now very familiar and unmistakable sound of yet another Boom Tube opening rent the air.

The two combatants leapt back from one another. Batman glaring at the newest challenge that walked through, while Gilotina saluted the old woman.

Bruce took a half-second to study the woman. Old and big, but not fat. Well muscled. Fit. A masculine face. A main of while untamed hair as white as chalk. Callous unforgiving, that spoke of stern discipline without the warmth of affection.

"Granny Goodness, I presume."

"The Batman, I presume."

…

somewhere between Metropolis and Gotham

April 2 – 3:16 pm

His comm buzzed.

"This is Superman. Go ahead."

"Clark, we might need you back here." Bruce's voice grunted over the channel.

"Okay." He replied soberly, clutching the unconscious boy in his arms as he flew strait to Wayne Manor. "I'll be there as soon as I get Kon-El settled."

There was no acknowledgment from the Dark Knight, the line just went quiet.

Clark didn't bother with going in through the Batcave's entrance. The Superman flew right over the estate's main gate and entered the manor through an upper window. Good luck explaining that, Mr. Wayne! Lucky the Caped Crusader lives close to the middle of nowhere and no one was around to see the red-caped Boy Scout slink in through the window like a skulking star-crossed teenager.

He deposited the boy in the same bed that he'd woken up in that morning. Alfred appeared in the doorway, his house-call medical bag in hand. Clark hovered over the older man as he checked the Superboy's heartbeat and breathing. He hopped on the balls of his feet with nervousness as Alfred felt the boy's chin and throat –checking his lymph nodes. He leaned over the man's shoulder when he pealed open one eyelid and shined his small pen-light in it, then repeated the process with the other. Clark wasn't quite sure what that was supposed to achieve. To check to see if his eyes would dilate the old army-medic would need something a lot stronger to get a reaction out of a kryptonian eye. (Unless he was checking to make sure they wouldn't dilate?)

Finally, voice tense with anxiety and heavy with impatience, Clark asked, "Is he going to be alright?"

Was that hesitation Clark saw in the old man's eyes before he answered, "Physically, he is fine."

"Okay." Clark nodded. That answer was to be expected. The kid was kryptonian, after all. It was late afternoon, closing in on that ambiguous period of time between afternoon and evening, but the sun was still up. Kon-El had gotten plenty of sunlight on the flight over, any physical injuries he might have sustained during their short fight should be healing –if not already healed. Mental damage, however…

Neither Clark nor Alfred had any was to assess that. But the boy would be fine! Clark had gone through something very similar and he was fine. There was no reason to worry about Kon. He just needed to sleep it off. In a few hours, he'll bounce back like nothing ever happened. You'll see! Really.

Clark's comm buzzed again. Right. Bruce had asked him to come back to the battle in Virgina.

…But he didn't really want to leave Kon's side. He wanted to be there when the boy woke-up.

The comm continued to buzz irritatingly. He answered.

"This is Superman. Go ahea-"

"Okay, seriously, Clark. Where the hell are you!" The Dark Knight snarled in his ear.

The Superman suppressed a sigh and brushed a strand of hair off the unconscious boy's forehead. He turned to Alfred. "You'll call me as soon as he wakes up?" He said, half-request, half-plea. "I… I wasn't there when the others rescued him from Cadmus and when I did get there I reacted badly. This time I wanna do thing right."

"Of course, Master Clark." If the old butler was more stiff than usual when he said that, Clark pretended not to notice.

The Man of Steel flicked on his comm. "I'm on my way."

…

The Potomac River, Virginia  
April 2 – 3:45 pm

Clark recognized Granny Goodness the moment he arrived back on the scene. He rushed forward with all the force of a speeding bullet-train and caught the woman in the stomach, wrapping his arms around her mid-section, the Superman lifted them both up into the clouds. The intended maneuver was to raise her high enough into the upper atmosphere to deprive her of oxygen enough to pass out. Barring that, the plan would turn to slamming her back down to the Earth and hope the impact would do enough damage to end the conflict quickly.

Neither happened.

Instead, Granny twisted in his arms until she was at an angle where she could hit him with her stave. The impact at the base of his spine didn't hurt very much. The energy that coasted through the weapon and arched throughout his whole body did –a lot! The Superman's body convulsed and he dropped the old woman involuntarily. She landed on a Doom Tank and grinned up at him as if she were keeping mental score of their encounters and knew that she was winning.

The Superman glared down at her, matching stare for stare.

Granny kicked off the tank and leapt into the air, lunging at the Man of Steel. Before she could reach him, however, a long dark cable of strong tensile strength tipped by a bat-shaped grapple shot up from the ground and wrapped itself around the old woman's ankle, pulling her downwards. Clark looked down at the Batman who gave a two-finger salute.

The Man of Steel drifted down to land next to his friend. He looked like hell.

The cape was mostly gone. Clark wasn't sure how it had been ripped or what it had been ripped on, but it was just shreds left hanging by his shoulders. The sleek black sheen of his armor was cracked in several places and chipped in others, revealing the kevlar mesh underneath. His breathing was labored and his heartbeat was racing. But his face was set in one of his trademark bat-grimaces.

"Good of you to show up." He growled.

Granny jerked her ankle, yanking the line that was still wrapped around it, and pulled the Dark Knight off his feet. The Caped Crusader stumbled for a moment before he let go of the rope and regained his balance. The old woman was back on her feet. Clark glared at her.

"Its over, Granny." He said. "We're beating back your forces all over, I've got Kon-El and cleaned out your mind control, and we've got you surrounded. Its time to give up!"

Her wide lips spread into a humorless smile. "Oh, I think not, my little chick-a-dee."

She leveled her stave directly at the Batman and let loose a bolt of electricity. Clark moved fast, planting himself squarely in the bolt's path between the old woman and the Caped Crusader. Crisp electric-blue power surged over his form and the Man of Steel grunted in pain, going to one knee, teeth gritted. From behind him, Bruce let fly a baterang and the Granny had to cease her attack in order to dodge the Dark Knight's.

"Thanks." Grunted the Man of Steel.

Through the white eye-slits of his cowl Bruce gave him one of his many patent pending bat-looks. This one in particular was meant to convey, 'You stepped into an attack meant for me. Don't thank me for doing the same for you. Now shut-up and get up.'

Clark climbed to his feet.

Granny glared at them.

The World's Finest exchanged a glance. No words were necessary. They'd fought like this before, it had become second nature to them. Neither could read minds, but they knew each other and each other's fighting techniques so well, they as well as could. One enemy. Two of them. The enemy could not fly. One of them could. The enemy had one weapon. One of them had a tiny arsenal around his waist.

The Batman went left.

The Superman went right.

Granny glanced from one to the other. Her weapon could only strike one at a time.

The Superman was the one with the super-powers, he was the bigger threat. The old woman focused her stave on him. …Just like every enemy always did. While the they were looking at the tall, bright Man of Steel, the Dark Knight snuck up behind them. That was the way it always happened, that was the way they played it. Clark let the blast hit him. Came up behind her, struck the Granny on the shoulders, forward-flipped over her and somersaulted away.

Granny Goodness blinked in confusion for only a half a second before she heard the ominous beeps of explosives suck to her back. Two of them, actually. One on each shoulderblade. Beep… beep… beep… Three… Two… One…

The Superman shielded his partner from the blast.

When the smoke cleared they both stood.

So did Granny Goodness.

Clark sighed. "I suppose it would have been to much to ask for that to be the end of it."

"I'm sorry. Is there somewhere else you'd rather be?" Asked the Caped Crusader.

"Actually, yes."

Granny snarled at the both of them. Her teeth barred in frustration, drops of spittle dripping from the corners of her mouth. The back of her costume had been incinerated, its charred fringes hanging off her back and shoulders. The skin beneath it was red and blistered but otherwise unharmed. "You naughty, naughty boys!"

"Maneuver seven?" Clark asked.

"Maneuver seven." Bruce nodded.

Superman made a cup with his hands. The Batman took a running start, stepped into the Man of Steel's hands. Clark launched the Dark Knight high into the air. The Caped Crusader came down on Granny Goodness, kicking the woman hard in the face. Jumped backwards. The woman staggered back. The Superman followed up the Batman's attacked with a rush of his own.

He once again grabbed the woman, this time by the hands, squeezing her wrist hard enough to force her to drop her stave. For a second time they headed up into the sky. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to pass out any time soon, Clark slammed her back down into the ground. She hit the bank of the Potomac adjacent to the Anacostia-Bolling joint Air Force Naval base, sending up a splash of concrete, mud and water.

Batman picked up her dropped stave and examined its controls.

Granny got back to her feet.

"She doesn't know when to stay down." The Man of Steel shook his head.

"They never do." The Caped Crusader reminded him without infliction. Then, looking up, he fixed his gaze on the Granny and said, "I try never to say stuff like this, but… I wonder what this button does."

The Dark Knight pointed Granny Goodness' own stave at her and flicked his thumb over one of three buttons it had on its hilt. A bolt of electric-blue energy lashed out with far more kick-back then the Batman was expecting. He stumbled for a moment before he could regain firmer footing. The bolt went wide, striking the old woman in the shoulder rather then where he'd been aiming. Now with firmer footing and a better understanding of the device the Dark Knight tried again. This time the bolt flew true, striking Granny in the chest.

The old woman felt backwards, the chest-plate of her alien battle suit steaming. This time, she stayed down. Glaring up at the World's Finest, she said with a grunt, "That was dirty."

The Batman shrugged then jerked a thumb at the Superman. "He's the one who fights fair."

"I have tried with him." Said the Man of Steel as if lamenting a long battle lost. "But if he ever fought truly 'fair' in the kinds of battles we usually face-"

"-I'd have died a long time ago."

The two exchanged knowing grins.

"Such wonderful comradery." Spat the Granny. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Don't hold back on our account." Said the Superman. "If you're gonna puke, go ahead and puke. It wouldn't be the first time we beat someone so hard they tossed their cookies."

"Ugh."

The Batman, still holding the old woman's stave in his hand, knelt in front of the Granny –just out of her immediate reach. "Now then," he began, "I'd like to know why you're invading in the first place. What's so special about Earth?"

"Is that important right now?" Asked the Superman.

"I think it's important." Replied the Batman. "Saving the planet is only half of it. The rest is knowing every possible detail about the case."

"Of course." The Man of Steel heaved a shrug. He didn't care so much. He didn't need to know everything about everything just to punch a bad guy in the face.

While they were gabbing, Granny Goodness reached for her Father Box on her belt. There was a loud resounding BOOM, as she opened a Boom Tube. Climbing to her feet, she shouted a quick, "Retreat!" before jumping through the Tube.

All around them, more Boom Tubes were opened, the skies and grounds of Anacostia-Bolling were filled with their eerie, undulating light and in less time than it took to say 'Great Scott!' the armies of Apokolips were gone.

The Batman turned to his companion. "Now look what you did!"

…

NAS Pensacola, Florida

April 2 – 5:00 pm

Kid Flash was hungry and exhausted.

Robin's belt had been spent, having used all the surplus grappling lines, explosives, robinrangs, and other various paraphernalia he had.

The two sat, back to back, breathing heavily and staring, their eyes fixed, on the Doom Tanks that hovered over the Pensacola skyline.

"Dude." Said the Kid Flash. "Looks like we're about to die. Say something profound."

"That's an interesting word, 'profound'. It means deep and meaningful, and its antonym, 'confound', means to surprise and confuse. Makes sense. But their root, 'found', is the past participle of 'fine'. How does that make sense?"

"Heh. That's what we get for speaking a bastard language."

…And then, something very unexpected happened.

The air was rent by the unmistakable sound of yet another Boom Tube opening. The two exhausted teens looks towards the heavens and, sure enough, the undulating glow of another Tube hung in the sky.

"Ugh! What now…" Groaned the Kid Flash.

"I think… KF, I think they're leaving!"

…

Camp Pendleton, California

April 2 – 5:00 pm

The San Diego desert was littered with the bodies of Parademons. The skies were relatively clear of the monsters. That did not mean, however, that the skies were clear. While the Abrams tanks might have done away with most of the Parademon force, they were not so effective against the Doom Tanks.

M'gann hovered in the air, anxiously biting her thumb (a habit she had picked up since coming to Earth). They had done very well adapting to every new wave that had been thrown at them so far, but she could see that they were struggling to keep every inch their gained. Their forces were fairly evenly matched, but Apokolips did have one advantage that they did not. They were one base with a finite amount of resources, but the enemy could send any number of reinforcements through their wormholes at the drop of a hat.

…And that was what the martian girl feared they were doing when a new Boom Tube opened up over the battlefield.

She wanted to cry.

Then something happened. A change in the attitude of the troops. A grim resignation turning to confused hope and then… a single unifying realization of 'hurray'! M'gann blinked in confusion. The Doom Tanks were turning back. Instead of sending new ones out through the Boom Tube, the ones they'd been fighting were going back into it! They were retreating!

"Hurray!" She whooped!

…

The Potomac River, Virginia  
April 2 – 5:00 pm

Batman switched his comm to an open JLA channel so that everyone could hear him and he wouldn't have to repeat for anyone. "This is Batman calling all League and Team members deployed. Enemy is retreating. Finish clean-up in your areas then rendezvous back at the base for debriefing. Acknowledge."

There was a choir of 'Roger', 'Affirmative', 'Got it', 'Understood', 'Got'cha' and whatever other words people used to acknowledge a message. The Batman switched off his comm and turned to the Superman.

The Man of Steel grinned playfully. "Roger that."

"Don't start." Growled the Dark Knight. "I'm still mad at you for letting the old lady get away."

"Right. Sorry about that." He wasn't sorry. "I might as well fly you home now. Since I think that's your plane over there. And over there… and some over there… and-"

"Yes. My plane was destroyed. I know."

"C'mon." The Superman gathered the Caped Crusader in his arms.

"I hate it when you carry me like this."

"Deal with it. This is how I carry everyone." Clark scoffed. They lifted into the air and the Boy Scout was sure to fly at only a moderately fast pace so as to not cause the Dark Knight any discomfort or motion sickness. After all, he was the goddamn Batman, he wasn't supposed to get motion sickness. When the mansion came into view Clark said, "I wonder, do you think Kon-El would be awake by now?"

Bruce felt a sudden stab of guilt at never having told his friend the risks with using the signal on the boy. "Listen, Clark, about Superboy…"

"Yes?" He looked at Bruce with those big blue and utterly trusting eyes of his and the Dark Stalker of the Night felt some of his resolve waver. "Nothing. It can wait until you've seen the boy."


	18. Wrap Up

Stately Wayne Manor

April 2 – 9:16 pm

The rest of the League trickled in slowly over the course of the evening.

Some where battered and exhausted, barely able to stay on their feet as they gave the Batman their report of events. Others were still obnoxiously fit and energetic and had the gall to crack jokes with the Dark Knight as he tried to compile a complete picture of the invasion. He would have very much liked to have established their motives for coming to Earth in the first place. Understanding the Apokoliptan's initial reasons would be a key factor in determining whether or not they would be back.

Unfortunately, no motives were made clear by the others' narratives of their battles with the aliens. That left the Caped Crusader to come up with his own theories –and Bruce could come up with some wild theories (to varying degrees of plausibility)!

Then there were the kids. Each and every member of the Team lingered after giving their report to ask how the Superboy was doing. So had Black Canary, Red Tornado, Martian Manhunter, and Captain Marvel. Even Red Arrow made a small inquiry as to the boy's condition. The Batman forced himself to remain impassive as he had to tell them that there were no new developments and that his condition had not changed since Superman brought him to the mansion hours earlier. But if they wanted to, they were more than welcome to go up to his room and sit by his bedside. Clark might even appreciate the company; he hadn't left the boy's side since returning from the final battle with Granny Goodness.

The Kid Flash zoomed upstairs the moment the words were out of the Dark Knight's mouth. Robin paused a moment longer, casting a glance at his mentor –silently asking if he was needed for anything else before he too joined the young speedster at their friend's bedside.

"Leave the ring." Was all Bruce said.

The Boy Wonder fished into his belt, withdrew the small lead ring-box and placed it in the Caped Crusader's hand before disappearing out of the cave. The rest of the Team followed –all but Miss Martian.

M'gann hung back.

The Batman fixed her with a questioning gaze and she averted her eyes.

Finally, after a prolonged pause, she asked, "He's not there anymore, is he? I know Uncle J'onn hasn't finished looking at him yet, but… From what he described before –from what I know his condition… There isn't anything of Conner left."

Bruce regarded her for a moment longer, then said, "Kryptonians are a resilient people. He might still recover."

M'gann looked up at him then, her eyes filled with a bitten-sweet mingling of hope and grief. "But he wouldn't be the same. All his programming, his memories, the things that helped make him who he was won't be there anymore. He wouldn't be the same person. He wouldn't be the same man I-" Her voice cracked, but she refused to cry. After a prolonged pause in which her shoulders shook noticeably with the effort to control her emotions, the girl finally said. "Thank you, but I think I'd rather just go lay down for a while. I assume the same room Artemis and I shared last night is still available?"

The Batman nodded. A silent statement, 'Go do what you have to do.'

…

Stately Wayne Manor

April 2 – 9:45 pm

Wolf was curled up at Kon's feet. Clark had taken the second-best position at the boy's side, on the side without a bedside table, right next to the headboard –effectively ensuring that he would be the first thing the boy saw when he woke up. …If he woke up. He had already been asleep longer than the Superman had anticipated.

J'onn stood at the side of the bed, hands placed on Kon's temples, head bowed –assessing the damage to his mind.

When Bruce and J'onn had used the signal on Clark, they said he was only out for five hours. He had lost roughly twenty-four hours worth of memories, but he had only been unconscious for four. So, Clark had expected Kon to be out for a similarly short amount of time. But it had already been six hours now and was approaching a seventh and still the boy did not stir.

Someone, Alfred most likely, had tried to make him more comfortable, removing the boy's battle suit and tucking him under the covers. Kon looked serene in his unconscious state, almost like he was just sleeping. But kryptonians did not need that much sleep (at least, not under a yellow sun they didn't).

The Team was gathered in the room. Well, the Team sans M'gann. That struck Clark as odd, considering that prior to this incident, they had been intimately involved. She had spent the two week that he'd been missing passionately helping Clark try to track Boom Tubes with his instruments at the Fortress, he would have thought that now that Kon was back she'd be plastered to his side. The rest of the Team was here, but she was not.

Dick stood leaning against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. He had changed out of his Robin uniform and into a black and yellow Batman T-shirt, his Superman jammy-bottoms and socks. He had not showered.

In fact, none of the children had showered before stampeding into room –smelling of nervous sweat, blood, munitions residue, and Parademon filth- to inquire after Kon's condition. Following the admission that nothing had changed since Clark had used the melody on him in the first place there was a morose silence. They now all drifted about the room as if at a loss as to what they should say or do.

Wally, still in his Kid Flash uniform sans the mask, paced back and forth at a speed that was slow for him, but still sent soft currents of wind spiraling outward to ruffle everyone's hair.

Artemis was starring listlessly out the window at the dark manor grounds. Every now and again she would cast a glance at the Superboy unconscious on the bed, as if to check if he had miraculously woken up before turning her attention back to the window.

Kaldur absentmindedly ran a finger over the spines of a row of books on a shelf. As if he couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to sit by Kon's beside and read or remain standing and able to move at a moment's notice.

Black Canary had come in to sit with the Team for a while. But then Diana popped in to tell her that Green Arrow was being transferred from Themyscria back to Star City and she had rushed off to be home (at his home) when he arrived.

Red Tornado walked in to inquire after the boy just as Dinah was leaving. After being told that Kon's condition hadn't changed, the android nodded and left. Not having particularly strong or compelling emotions, he saw no further purpose in his remaining in the room. After all, it seemed cluttered with enough bodies as it was.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the Superman, J'onn straitened, his hands returning to his sides. The Martian Manhunter heaved a sigh.

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly, everyone snapping to attention and focusing their eyes on the martian. It must have taken every ounce of will each and every one of them had not to pounce on J'onn with questions of 'So, what's the problem?', 'How is he?', 'Why won't he wake up?' etc. The Martian Manhunter fixed each young hero with a measured gaze, as if decided whether or not he should tell them what he knew. Finally, his eyes fell on the Man of Steel and he said, "Clark, may we talk in the hall?"

The Superman cast a reluctant glance towards the boy on the bed. He did not want to leave Kon's side. If the boy should suddenly wake, Clark wanted to be there. But, J'onn was just in the boy's head, he would not have asked the Superman to leave if he though Kon would wake any time within the next five minuets.

Reluctantly, Clark nodded and stood.

The Team said nothing about being excluded from hearing the latest news about their friend, but the moment the door had closed behind them, Clark heard sound of four roughly human-shaped ears and one fuzzy canine-shaped one being pressed against the wood. To spite the anxiety he was feeling, the Man of Steel could not help but smile at that.

Bruce was striding up the corridor towards them, still in his Batman uniform, sans the cape and cowl.

"I just finished the debriefings." He said.

Clark pounced on him. "What's wrong with him, Bruce!" He snarled. "You said I was only out for five hours, why's he been down for seven? What didn't you tell me before? What did I unknowingly do to him!"

Instead of answering the borderline-hysterical Man of Steel, the Caped Crusader turned his gaze to the Martian Manhunter. "Have you finished your assessment?"

J'onn nodded. "I have."

"Then, will you please answer his questions."

The martian turned to his friend and colleague. Placing a comforting hand on the man's shoulder, J'onn lead with the good news. "His Chalice is undamaged." He said. "So, there is a strong change that he will recover."

"What in the name of Rao's flaming pits is a 'chalice'?" Asked the Superman.

Bruce was tempted to reply with, 'It's a large goblet-shaped cup used for drinking wine.' But decided that now was not the time to be poking fun or stating the obvious. Besides, stating the obvious was Clark's job and he didn't look to be up to it at the moment. So, the Dark Knight remained silent, scathing attempt at humor going unsaid, while J'onn explained.

"Apologies, it's the closest English approximation to what my people call it. It's the Center of a person's being, the part of the psyche that acts as a container for all the core pieces that make up the Self. Conner's Center is undamaged, with enough time I believe he might recover."

Clark heaved a sigh, his whole body noticeably relaxing. "Thank Rao…"

"However," the Martian Manhunter began again.

"No. Don't say 'however'. Don't say 'but'." Clark shook his head. "He's gonna recover. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"Clark, you have to understand; the enemy's mind control was so deeply embedded in his mind that when it was wiped out, everything was wiped out with it." J'onn pressed on anyway. "You were rescued before it could be fully implanted and so it was still on just the surface of your mind when Bruce cleaned it out. As a result, you lost a day's worth of memories. But Conner lost everything. Not just memories of the past months, of the Team, of you- He won't know how to speak, or walk, or feed himself… If he does regain consciousness he'll be like an infant in a teenager's body."

The Man of Steel remained silent. Contemplative. Finally, he said, "I read in one of the Team's case files, there was a mission where they all lost their memories and didn't know each other or that they were Teammates, but M'gann used her powers to restore their memories. Can't you do that with Kon-El?"

J'onn hesitated.

Down the corridor the door to another bedroom opened and M'gann walked out. Her eyes were puffy and rimed with a darker shade of green. She looked like she had been crying. The martian girl walked right up to the three of them and said in a subdued voice, "Its not the same. In Bialya, everyone's memories had been suppressed, but they were still there. All I had to do was reawaken them. But Conner… There's nothing there. Its not suppressed, its gone. He's a blank slate."

"We could…" Again, the Martian Manhunter hesitated. "We could implant information in his mind. Like language and basic skills like how to feed himself and use the bathroom. It… it would be very similar to how Cadmus thought him."

"No!" Clark snarled rather passionately. "No more hypnotic learning. No more programming. I don't want anyone messing with his head ever again. If he's gotta learn that stuff all over again, then he'll learn the old fashioned way same as everyone else."

J'onn nodded his understanding.

M'gann also nodded, but it was more of resignation than anything else. She muttered a soft 'Excuse me.' and disappeared back into her room. A few moments later Clark heard her crying again.

Bruce placed a hand on the Superman's shoulder. "We're all still a bit tense and exhausted." He said. "You and Kon-El can stay here tonight and in the morning I'll help you move the boy."

"Move him?" Clark blinked.

"Well, he's not gonna stay here forever." The Dark Knight replied.

J'onn took that as his cue to leave. This sounded like it was going to be a World's Finest conversation.

"Right." Nodded the Man of Steel as if this had just occurred to him. "I guess I'll take him back to the Fortress. If I put him in the Solar-Matrix maybe he'll recover faster."

The Batman sighed and smacked the Superman up the side of the head.

Clark sighed. "Alright, what did I say wrong this time?"

"Clark, its not sunlight he needs right now." Bruce said in his rarely hears 'bedside manner' voice. "Its not a physical injury he's suffering from, it mental. It won't help him recover any faster to be stuck in that sterile and impersonal healing Matrix of yours. Yeah, he'll need sunlight, but he also needs to hear laughter and voices, to smell bacon frying downstairs or the wind rustling through corn fields, to feel a homemade quilt over him or-"

"You're suggesting I take him to my parents' house."

His friend nodded. "The only reason we didn't send him there before was because he might have been a danger to your parents. Now he's practically a rag-doll. –Sorry, that was insensitive of me. But you know what they say about people in comas, they can still hear when people speak, so its best to talk to them. Well, with all his enhanced kryptonian senses, its better to not only talk to him, but immerse him in a comfortable and wholesome places that he'd want to wake-up to."

"With the sound and smell of bacon frying and wind through the fields…" Clark echoed. "And dogs playing outside in the yard, and cats and cowbells…"

"Exactly." Bruce nodded.

"Okay." Clark leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "But let me take him there alone. I… haven't exactly told them much about Kon-El. When I take him there, it should just be me, I want them to know that he's mine, not the League's. –If that makes any sense."

"I understand. I'll come by the next day to drop off Wolf."

…

Kent Family Farm

April 3 – 10:30 am

Jonathan Kent was tilling the east field when a streak of red cut across the sky over him. He lifted his head just in time to see a man clad in blue and red flying towards the house. So, Clark had come home for a visit. That was good; the Kents hadn't seen their son in several months.

Clark landed by the back porch, where he wouldn't be seen by any possibly existent traffic from the highway. Holding Kon-El in his arms, the Man of Steel took a long breath to steady his nerves. He could fly around the world so fast he could almost turn back time, stave off alien mind-control with nothing more than a nursery rhyme, and save the world over a billion times. But the most terrifying task he ever had to undertake would forever and always be facing his mother.

Martha Kent was bent over, weeding her kitchen garden. She wore a faded pair of coveralls and a bright yellow straw hat with a wide brim. She turned when Clark's shadow fell over the herb bed, her smile making the elderly woman look younger than her years. Then the corners of her mouth turned downwards in a silent question when she saw what her son held.

"Hi, Ma." The Superman flushed plaintively. "I, uh- This is Kon-El. He's kinda my son."

She stood, duster her gardening gloves as she did so. Ma placed her hands reprimandingly on her hips and made a point of not commenting on Clark's use of 'kinda'. Instead, she said, "Well, don't just stand there. Bring him inside."

Martha, with the agility of a much younger woman, practically hopped up the three steps of the porch and opened the door for her son and… grandson, apparently. She dashed past Clark through the living room and led him upstairs to the spare bedroom. Pulling sheets, blankets and pillows from the closet, Ma quickly made the bed.

Kon was laid down, a homemade quilt tucked up around his chin. Clark moved the bed closer to the window where the boy would get the most fresh air and sunlight possible, where he could smell the wind in the fields and hear the animals in the barn.

"We shouldn't have to worry about trying to feed him so long as he gets plenty of sunlight." Clark was saying absentmindedly. "He's just sleeping and not using much energy. I'll make a run between the Cave and my Fortress tonight to pick up his stuff."

"Clark," Ma cut him off, commanding his attention with the kind of quiet calm right before a mid-western storm. "You know your Pa and I have a great deal of patience when it comes to your sometimes downright bizarre adventures, but I do think that this merits a bit more explanation than usual. If its not to much trouble for you, dear."

He nodded. "I'll change and meet you downstairs. I saw Pa in the east field on my way in, I'd like to wait for him before I explain."

…

Watchtower

April 6 – (irrelevant)

Watchtower needed minor repairs, a better security system, and a thorough cleaning. After the Apokoliptan ground forces had rabbited, so too had those still left on the station and thy had left behind every conceivable mess a group or organic life forms could leave –but to spare your fair sensibilities, they shall not be listed. Clean up and repair duties were divided up based on members' abilities and Clark was glad to have been assigned 'exterior hull repair' rather than toilet detail.

Someone had dug handholds along the outer-hull of Watchtower and they needed to be patch. Luckily, none of them had punched clear through to the inner-hull and depressurized the station, but they were still chinks in the stations armor and needed to be repaired –lest some stray bit of space debris made of an amalgamation of kryptonites, infused with yellow fear energy, possessed by evil spirits, set anyone who touched it on fire, and carried a highly contagious alien virus happened to find its way in. It could happen!

Clark welded a patch over the last of the shallow holes (that were just a littler smaller than his own hands). His task finished, the Man of Steel reentered the Watchtower, happy to be done and ready to go home.

Barry and Hal were chatting by the zetta control when Clark entered the bridge. He hadn't heard what tasks they'd been assigned in the post-Apokoliptic clean up but they couldn't have both finished already. One or both of them had to be procrastinating. But, at the moment, Clark didn't care. He just wanted to get back to the farm and check on Kon. Bruce had said that people in comas could still hear voices, so Clark had taken to reading to the boy in the evenings. It had been three days and tonight they were going to start on the third Harry Potter book. Clark figured that was a nice kid-friendly thing to read to someone who was catatonic. Ya know, up until you finished the fourth one, then they got pretty dark. But he was hoping the boy would wake-up before then.

Both Hal and Barry looked up as he approached the zetta control.

"Hey, did you hear what they found when they opened the Cave back up?" Asked the Flash.

He hadn't.

Barry continued without being prompted. "Apparently, while they were locked up, all the Parademons sealed in the Cave tried to eat each other. Bats says that the Apokoliptans probably kept them on half rations so that they'd be more vicious in battle. Guess once they realized they were trapped it didn't take long for that viciousness to turn towards their own kind."

"That's sick." Clark couldn't help but comment.

"I've seen it happen before on other planets." Hal admitted soberly.

"Its happened here on Earth too. There've been some pretty evil sadists in our history." Barry reminded him. Then, to change the subject, "Hey, how's the kid? He doing any better?"

"He hasn't woken-up yet, if that's what you're asking." Clark had to inform him.

"Hey, chin-up." Hal squeezed his shoulder. "You kryptonians are a resilient bunch. He'll bounce back."

"Yeah." Barry agreed. "From what Wally's told me about him, the kid's to stubborn to stay down. You'll see."

…

Daily Planet, Metropolis

April 7 – 9:45 am

"Hey, CK, you awake?" Jimmy snapped his fingers in his colleague's face.

Clark blinked. "Huh? Oh. Sorry, Jimmy. My mind was somewhere else." He sat up strait and pulled his chair closer to the desk. "Did you need something?"

"I was just wondering if you could proof-read this for me. You're the best spell checker in the building, computers included." The red-headed photographer passed a document to him.

Clark looked at the words without fully processing them.

After a prolonged moment Jimmy said, "Jeez, you and Lois both!" He leaned against the desk. "I know why she's in a discombobulated stupor but what's eating you?"

"I… Sorry, Jimmy, it's a personal problem. I'd rather not talk about it." Then as if he had only just head the man, he asked, "Lois is in a stupor? From what?"

"You mean you haven't heard!" Olsen's eyes went wide. "Apparently, Superman has a son! He told Lois himself, I was standing right there and heard the whole thing. So, now she's been dividing her time between trying to figure out the mother's identity and why she's never gotten even so much of a hint about this from the Big Gut before now, and crying her eyes out that he's taken and calling herself an idiot for all the flirting she did over the years… ya know, standard woman break-up stuff. Except, they were never together, so it's weird."

…

Kent Family Farm

April 8 – 2:16 pm

Five days Kon had been unconscious when Dick showed up at he farm one afternoon for a visit. He had explained that the whole Team wanted to come, but Bruce had told them all that it wasn't their place to invite themselves over to his civilian home (one of his civilian homes) where they weren't supposed to know where he lived in the first place. Robin had no right to share details like that.

But Clark was sort of Dick's unofficial pseudo-uncle –sometimes. He had been to the Kent Farm and Clark's apartment in Metropolis numerous times before –usually to complain about Bruce to someone besides Alfred who understood. Today, he came to see Kon. Bearing flowers, balloons and 'Get Well Soon!' cards, he headed up to the spare bedroom.

Someone had changed his pajamas, but aside from that, the Superboy looked much the same as he had back at Wayne Manor.

Dick arranged the cards and flowers he'd brought on the bedside table –careful not to cover a copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban that also rested there. He sat by the boy's bed and talked. He told Kon about the Team –two knew girls had joined, Zatanna (which everyone totally saw coming) and Rocket (but only because her mentor had joined the League). He thought Zatanna kinda liked him, but shush 'cause he wasn't supposed to know about that. Wally and Artemis had started dating, something which had come as a surprise to no one but them. M'gann seemed to be going through either grief or withdrawal… or both. It was a little hard to tell. Green Arrow had apparently proposed to Black Canary and she was making him sweat for her answer (as if it wasn't obvious to everyone else what she'd say). Red Tornado was the same as always –of course.

"…but all of this means nothing to you 'cause you'll have no idea who we are when you wake up." The Robin heaved a sigh. "Anyway, I better get going."

Clark was just on his way in while Dick was on his way out.

"Oh, Dick! Hey."

"Hi, Clark. I was just dropping off some stuff from the Team." The bird-boy heaved a shrug. "I see he's still the same."

"Yes…" The Superman nodded gravely.

"I also saw you've been reading to him. –Or, someone's been reading to him."

"I have."

Dick fidgeted, then ventured, "Listen, I know you're not very good at it –least not as good as Bruce- but have you tried singing?"

"Singing?" Clark blinked in complete and utter confusion.

"Its something Bruce and I were talking about." The Robin explained. "Since all of this seemed to revolve around music… the signal they used to control him, the canon you used to wipe his programming, all that 'natural melody' crap, maybe a melody would bring him back too. Something in-tune with his 'natural melody'. I'm not saying it'll work but it might be worth a try. After all," he glanced back at Kon unconscious on the bed, "its not like it can make things any worse."

Clark thought about that for a while after Dick left. Really, what could it hurt?

That evening, instead of reading to Kon, he hummed. He did not sing. Clark could carry a tune like it was nobody's business, a talent derived from his flawless hearing. But he had a very unpleasant singing voice. In fact, it was so bad, that one Christmas the entire Daily Planet staff had forced him to sign a contract agreeing to never sing at their office holiday parties –ever! But, he could carry a tune, so that was what he did. He hummed.

It didn't work that night.

Nor the night after that.

But the third night he tried…

…

Kent Family Farm

April 11 – 9:32 pm

He had been aware of things around him for some time. A warmth on his face that came and went in regular intervals, the sounds of creatures somewhere near him, but not next to him, a voice making patterned sounds… The voice also came and went at regular intervals. With the fading of the heat and coming of cooler time, the voice would appear next to him and make sounds for most of the cooler time until warmth would begin to return and the voice would leave.

Recently, however, the voice had changed its pattern. Instead of making its usual sounds it began a new sound. Also a sound with pattern, but more rhythmic. It was pleasant and inviting and he wanted to follow that sound. For three intervals he listened to the new sound until, at the close of the third interval when he felt the cooler time begin to end and the warmth return, he decided that he did not want to new sound to go. He followed it, chasing that new but pleasant pattern.

…and he opened his eye.

Another creature leaned over him. Its face holding a look of… he did not have a name for it yet. He understood face. And he understood the look. But he did not have a name for the look. It was what he felt when he had first heard the new pattern of sound. Pleasant. Surprise. The creature blinked at him, the covers of its eyes closing and opening again very quickly.

"Kon!" Its mouth moved and sound came out. But it was not the pattern he had wanted. "You're awake!"

He did not know what these sounds meant and so he only stared at the creature whom suddenly wrapped two thick limbs around him. As the creature pulled away, he noticed that their limbs ended in the same digited appendages. Acting on nothing more than impulse he closed his digits around the other creature's and brought the appendage closer to his own face to study them together.

The other creature's appendage was larger than his, but only slightly, with longer digits. But the shape was the same, even the lines on them were the same. He looked back at the creature's face in wonderment. Reaching out with his other appendage he felt the creature's eyes and the spaces around them, the strait part that came down between them and ended above the mouth, the mouth and the bottom of the face with a cleft in it. Then he felt his own face to compare. Also, nearly the same.

The creature was like him.

That was probably why he had liked the sounds and patterns it had made.

"Kon-El, do you know me?" It made more sounds, but the pattern was unfamiliar and he did not understand. "J'onn said you wouldn't know anything, but I thought maybe…?"

While the creature was making plenty of sounds, none of them were the pattern he had wanted. He lost interest in the creature and turned his attention to the rest of his surroundings. He was in a nest of some sort, sandwiched between two soft pieces of nesting material. He liked the feel of them and the bright colors they had. Like a… well, he didn't have a name for it either. Like when your eyes made patterns when your eyes were closed.

The nest was pressed against the side of a… a solid surface that stretched up until it connected to another solid surface. There were six of them I all, four around them one above and the other below. The one his nest was pressed against had a hole cut into it. It was through this hole that he heard the other creatures making sounds. He looked down, noted that it was much farther down on the other side of the hole than it was inside and shifted his gaze up.

It was dark up. Sort of a soft darkness, like the inside of his eyelids only different. If he looked off into the distance (without looking down) he saw the darkness growing lighter and as the light grew the warmth returned. So, the warmer time and the light were the same thing.

"Kon, look at me." The other creature was making sounds again. But he continued to stare at the light growing in the distance, chasing the darkness out of the above, making pretty colors with the everything, and bringing with it the warmer time. He liked that light. There was something… energizing about it. "Kon-El."

The other creature placed an appendage on his face and gently turned him back to look at it. He whined in protest. He wanted to watch the light grow. If the creature wasn't going to make the sound with the pattern he liked then he wasn't interested in paying attention to it.

"Look, Kon, I know its probably pointless so soon, J'onn said you wouldn't understand language. But I've been reading to you this whole time, do you… can you understand just a little of what I'm saying? Kon-El?"

He didn't know what the creature wanted from him, but he kept repeating that one sound, 'Kon'. Maybe if he tired to emulate it the creature would leave him alone until he was ready to make the sound with the pattern he liked again.

"K-ko." He tried.

The creature's eyes brightened noticeably. He liked that look on the creature's face, it made him feel good –though, he did not have a name for the feeling. "Kon, do you understand!"

He had gotten the sound wrong. He tired again, "Ko." No, that didn't sound right either. "Kon."

That was it!

"Kon!" He said again, with more confidence this time. "Kon. Kon. Kon."

"Yes, that's right!" The creature wrapped its limbs around him again. "You're Kon-El. You are Conner Kon-El Kent, and I am your Pa."

…

END


	19. Epilogue: The Day

One Year Later…

Unknown Location, Kansas

April 12 – 1:16 am

Wally slipped on the icy floor and went sliding on his ass on a collision course with Artemis's feet. The two collapsed in a heap and would have been frozen in place by a blast from Mr. Freeze's ray had the Boy Wonder not stepped in immediately.

Two robinrangs sailed through the air, impacted on the ice-villain's fishbowl-helmet and sent spider-web cracks radiating from them.

"Hmf. Déjà vu." He commented.

The distraction gave both the archer and speedster time to regain their footing and get clear.

Kaldur came up behind the villain, his water-bearers in hand, the constructs formed into whips. Freeze wheeled around and squinted through the cracks in his helmet to aim his ray, not at the atlantian, but his whips. The pliant and mobile water instantly solidified, turned brittle and shattered.

"Really now?" Rocket couldn't help but comment. "There's seven of us and one of him, why is this so difficult?"

"Age and wisdom, my dear. Age and wisdom." The ice-villain chided.

Chunks of ice rose into the air around him, lifted by Miss Martian's telekinesis. "Oh really?" She said. "Tell us the wisdom in this!"

She brought the large ice boulders down on top of him. Or rather, she would have, had he not formed a dome of yet more ice over himself at the last second. Effectively shielding him from her assault.

"Tlem eci!" Zatanna's voice cut through the din and Freeze's protective dome melted around him.

So did all the ice in the warehouse. Everyone was now standing ankle-deep chilly water.

"Thank you, my dear." Freeze smiled behind his cracked helmet. He aimed his ray at the floor and before Dick could exclaim 'Holy icecapades Batman!' everyone was frozen in place. Their feet stuck to the ground by frigid shackles that only moments ago was nothing more than a large puddle. "Well, this has been very refreshing, children. Thank you for the exercise. But I really must be going."

Robin fished in his belt for a small torch to melt his way out or other tool to chip himself free.

Wally began to vibrate his molecules out of the ice.

M'gann shifted the shape of her feet and slithered free.

Kaldur bent the ice around him back into water.

Artemis aimed a fire-tipped arrow at her feet.

Zatanna used the same ice-melting spell as before.

Each of them freed themselves in their own way, intent to go after Freeze. But none of them got to him.

Not because Freeze was to fast for them. Not at all. As villains went, he was pretty slow and lumbering. No, the reason no one on the Team got to Freeze was because someone else got to him first.

He came crashing through the ceiling in a disorderly mess of broken stucco, bent support railings, blue and red spandex, and a leather jacket. He landed a single red-gloved punch on Freeze's already cracked dome. The ice-villain went down instantly, pointing his own ray at his face to insulate him from the relative heat of the outside world. Déjà vu, indeed.

When the dust cleared, the stranger's back was to them, but there as no mistaking that yellow shield on the back of his black leather jacket. He wore red tights below the jacket, not underpants on the outside (or 'kryptonian overpants' as Clark insisted they were called, yeah right), just strait tights that ended in black boots. Two thin leather and utterly functionless belts crossed around his waist and Robin found himself fighting between the urge to sneer at such useless looking belts or to whoop and skip and jump for joy at the realization that this could only be one person.

The newcomer turned around slowly.

There was the iconic S-shield in its proper colors of red and yellow over a background of blue. The blue of his top came down significantly lower in the front than it did in the back, coming to a sharp 90s V-waits that looked worlds better than Clark's 'kryptonian overpants' ever did. There was also a garter on his right leg (for some reason) that they had failed to notice from behind.

It was hard to believe it was him. He was wearing tights for cripes sake! But there was no mistaking that face. It was Superman's face, only two decades younger.

He looked back at them, every fiber of his body radiated self-consciousness as he said, "Hi. I'm-"

"Supey!" Everyone cried.

Well, everyone who knew him. Rocket hung back, she had never really met the Superboy. Zatanna approached, but much more slowly than the others, she had only worked with the Superboy a couple of times.

Everyone else pounced on the young kryptonian clone, throwing him off balance and sending them all clattering to the floor.

From underneath the dog-pile he said, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

…

Bio-ship, somewhere between Kansas and Mount Justice

April 12 – 2:00 am

"So, how did you know where we were?"

"Totally epic entrance dude!"

"Did Batman send you?"

"Its great to see you recovered! We didn't think we'd see you again for like… years!"

Kon sat in his chair in the bio-ship blushing timidly from all the attention. He smiled a hesitant but apologetic smile. "Uh, one at a time, please."

"Do you remember anything?" This question was asked so softly it wasn't so much spoken as it was radiated through out the cabin, originating from the captain's chair. Every head turned to regard Miss Martian. Her back was strait, but not overly so, it looked like just good posture, her hands rested almost casually on the ship's guiding orbs, but her face… her brows where knit together, her eyes hard, her mouth set in a line that was determined to be inexpressive. She was gravely serious.

The Superboy looked almost scared of her severe demeanor for a moment. Then he swallowed a lump in his throat and said in a clear voice. "No, ma'am. I don't remember a thing from before my trauma. Pa says I'm better off not knowing for now."

"'Trauma', is that what we're calling it now?" She asked.

"That's what Pa calls it." He said, then paused, unsure. "The way you're glaring at me I think I might've done something to make you mad? I don't know what it was, but I'm sorry." Kon bent down and fished into his boot. When he came back up, he held in his hand a thin stack of index cards. "Pa did make these for me."

Wally was suddenly leaning over his shoulder. "Ooh! Cheat sheets!"

"Yeah." Said the Superboy. He spread them out on the consol in front of him. "Just little notes and things, ya know, since I can't remember." He studied the cards for a moment. "Miss M'gann, it doesn't say anything about me making you mad here."

"What does it say?" She asked cautiously.

He picked up the card and read. "Miss Martian, real name M'gann M'orzz. We first met on July seventh two years ago when the Team was formed. You complemented me on my shirt. You like baking and watching TV sit-coms from the seventies. You often quote your favorite show when you're nervous. Wally had a crush on you for most of the Team's first year."

He put the card down and looked at her.

"Is that all it says?"

The rest of the ship was deathly silent.

"No, ma'am." Kon shook his head. "It also lists your abilities and stats. Your equipment and stuff like that."

"I see."

The tension in the room was palpable.

Then Wally said, "Ya know, I think we should all take a moment to stop and appreciate what Supey's wearing!"

"Yeah!"

"That's right!"

"Tights!"

Everyone else agreed and suddenly the cabin was full of humor and comradery once again.

"Yeah…" The Superboy said, blushing. "I couldn't find my old uniform from before my trauma. I think Pa might have hidden it. He is so crazy over-protective, you wouldn't believe."

"Stand up, Supey." Insisted the speedster. "Let's look at you."

His self-conscious blush deepening, Kon stood from his chair and walked to the center of the cabin to model his new uniform for everyone.

"Its pretty retro looking." Rocket commented. She may not know the Superboy, but she felt she was well equipped to comment on his outfit. After all, you didn't need a life story to know fashion.

"Yeah. It is." Robin agreed, but not in a good way. He put a hand to his ear as if answering his comm, but they had received no alert. "Yu-huh? Really? Okay, I'll tell him." Then, looking back up at Superboy he said, "That was the 90s calling, they said they want their look back."

"Huh?" Kon didn't get it.

On the other side of the cabin, Wally's hand also went to his ear. "Hello? I'm sorry, I can't here you over the temporal distortion. Say again? Okay. I'll tell them. That was the 90s again. They said they want their joke back too."

"Ooh, diss!" Artemis smiled. She placed a chase kiss on Wally's cheek. "Good one, baby."

This joking and teasing would have continued for some time yet, had M'gann not cut everyone off. "Arriving at Cave in five."

…

Mount Justice

April 12 – 2:56 am

Standard procedure upon exiting the bio-ship after a mission was usually to swing by the kitchen for a juice or snack (or both and then some in the case of Wally), then proceed to the briefing room to give their reports to Batman. That did not happen this time. Instead, upon exiting the bio-ship, they were greeted by an utterly panic-stricken Superman.

"Where is he!" Demanded the Man of Steel and it was impossible to tell if he were on the verge of frying them all with his heat-vision, or breaking down into tearful hysterics. "Is he with you? Please, tell me he's with you!"

"P-Pa!" Kon froze in his steps on the gangplank.

"Oh, thank Rao!" Clark sighed, every fiber in his being sagging with apparent relief. No sooner had his body relaxed, however, then he was once again pulled taught. This time with anger. "What in the name of Rao's flaming pit were you thinking, boy! Where have you been? Don't answer that! I can see. I have been going out of my mind with worry. Do you know that! If Robin hadn't called Batman when you showed up-"

"You tattled!" The Superboy's eyes shifted from his irate father to his former Teammate already at the bottom of the gangplank. Everyone was gathered there, watching the kryptonians intently as if they had just become the most enthralling daytime melodrama ever conceived. 'Like sands through the hourglass, these are public train-wreck-arguments of the Justice League and company.'

"Eyes up here, Kon!" Clark snapped.

"Yes, sir!"

Clark's attention shifted to the red and blue tights he wore as if suddenly seeing them for the first time. He took in the leather jacket, the crossed belts, the black boots, then said, "What's this supposed to be?"

"Hero uniform." Kon answered. "Since… since I couldn't find my old uniform. I've got a million Crest of El T-shirts but no actual hero-costume."

The Superman sighed. Placing both hands on the boy's shoulders, he said, "Kon, I understand you want to use your powers. You want to go out and fight crime and help people and be a hero, but you're just not ready yet."

Kon pushed his father's hands away. "That's what you always say!" He snapped. "I'm 'not ready'! Its 'to dangerous'! 'We'll see'! 'Maybe next month'! 'Today's not the day'! I'm sick of waiting, Pa! When is it gonna be the day! When?"

Behind them, someone cleared their throat uncommonly loud. Everyone gathered, kryptonians and Team alike turned to find the Batman lurking in the corridor's doorframe. "If the Team isn't to busy, I would like to debrief them now."

The Team files out after Batman. Kon moved to follow them.

Clark placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "And where do you think you're going?"

"To be debriefed by Batman."

"Oh, no you don't." Clark shook his head. He steered the boy towards the closest zetta-tube instead. "You're marching your butt strait home, mister. You're not a member of this Team just yet and if you keep pulling stuff like this, you never will be."

"But, Pa-!"

"No!" Clark repeated. "Today is not the day."

…  
Stately Wayne Manor April 13 – 10:30 pm

"…I am not being unreasonable!"

The Dark Knight sighed as he pulled his cowl down over his face and pointedly ignored his friend's bout of parental hysterics. He would calm down in another minuet or two, then they could get back to their actual conversation. Bruce waited. When Clark realized he was not going to indulge the Man of Steel in his ranting, he stopped.

He sighed. "Things were so much easier when all he wanted was to play in the grass with the dogs and jump on hay bales in the barn."

Bruce smiled. "And ask you to take him flying all over the place after it rained looking for the ends of rainbows."

"Yeah…" Clark's shoulders slumped. Kids really did grow up to fast.

"Now he's defying his father's wishes and sneaking out of the house at night to join a gang and beat people up." An ironic smirk. "He's acting like a real teenager."

"I know. I hate it!"

Bruce pulled on a pair of gloves. "Well, get used to it. Because until you start compromising, he's gonna keep sneaking out and doing his little vigilante bit. This time the Team just happened to be in the area –relatively- and he went to meet-up with them. Next time he might decide to just go it solo."

"What do I do?"

"Like I said, compromise."

"You think I should let him join the Team?" Clark blinked in skepticism. "I'm not gonna reward him for bad behavior."

"I didn't say that. Any concessions you make would be conditional on him following whatever rules you lay down. It's the same arrangement Dick and I have. As to him joining the Team, no thank you. Until you work up the balls to tell him he's actually a clone, he'll just be a liability. I can't have him finding out on a mission somehow and becoming hysterical. Until he knows what he is for real, he's a psychological time-bomb I can't afford."

"I'd really rather not tell him. He's so happy believing his really my son –most of the time. And… I'm kinda happy with it too. Its nice –not being the only one of my race anymore."

Bruce just shook his head. "Anyway, while we're still sort of on the subject. The Team has been asking –demanding, actually- to see him. I suggest you throw him a birthday party and invite them. Its two months away, that's long enough for it not to seem like you're 'rewarding' him for this little incident."

"I'll think about it." Once again, Clark's shoulders slumped.

"And about compromising with him on fighting crime, and telling him the truth about where he comes from?"

"I'll think about those too."

…

Kent Family Farm

July 4 – 8:45 pm

The sun had long since dipped low over the west fields, leaving the sky an inky dark-blue that was almost black. A soft summer breeze caressed the tops of the still short stalks of corn. Fireflies buzzed lazily, blinking and flickering as if trying to join in the merriment that wafted frm the porch of the nearby farm-house.

Kon sat on the porch surrounded by a cornucopia of brightly colored papers and ribbons, all in varying increments of torn apart or stuck together with scraps of tape. He ripped the paper from the last gift his former Team had brought and was not surprised to find what could only be another gag-box inside (unless Dick actually thought he wanted a My Little Pony stables-castle, maybe it was some sort of joke between them from before his trauma? Kon just didn't know).

"Thanks." The Superboy muttered.

"Keep going." The Boy Wonder prompted.

With a sigh, Kon opened the new-looking My Little Pony box and withdrew, not a girly horse-themed toy but rather a game controller, followed closely by AV cables, and finally a gaming consol.

"Thanks?" He said again, not fully grasping what he had just received.

"I also got you an online subscription, so you can play with Wally and I." The Robin continued.

"Oh."

Clark gathered up the consol and all its related paraphernalia from the confused boy's lap while he explained, "It's a game. You hook it up to the TV to play."

"Oh." He said again, comprehension finally dawning. Then he turned apologetically to Dick. "I'm not allowed to use the TV."

"I think we can make an exception if it's to play with your friends." Clark assured him. "So long as it doesn't interfere with your studies or your chores around the farm… or any other responsibilities you might have."

"Thanks, Pa!"

The Superman ruffled the boy's hair before gathering up all the gifts the Team had brought him. He blurred into the house and came back a second later holding a wide flat –unwrapped- box under his arm.

"Now, there's one final thing you get to open before clean-up and fireworks." He extended the box to Kon.

He took and placed the plane unwrapped box on his lap. Lifting the lid, Kon found two pieces of tissue paper folded over something. He parted the paper- and froze. Lifting the garment up, it was revealed to be the costume he had worn a little less than two months ago when he'd snuck out of the house to meet up with the Team. It wasn't the costume he had worn, that one he had made out of cotton and flannel and whatever else he could find his Grammy's sewing cabinet that she wouldn't miss. This uniform looked to be made out of the same kryptonian fabric as his Pa's Superman uniform. But it wasn't his father's Superman uniform, it was his Superboy uniform. The high collar, black shoulders, 90s-style V-waist… all his design.

"This is…" Kon began.

Clark smiled.

Kon looked at him. "Does this mean…? Is today the day!"

Clark turned very serious. "Today is not the day. But it is the first step in getting to the day."

…

Bio-ship, somewhere between Kansas and Mount Justice

July 5 – 10:45 am

"Conner doesn't know he's a clone, does he?" Artemis asked suddenly.

Everyone in the cabin turned to face her. They had spent the night at the Kent residence with the boy's bunking it up in Kon's room and the girls occupying Clark's room (the Superman having vacated to his apartment in Metropolis). After a night of barbeque, presents, cake and fireworks and then a morning of stiff necks, grumbles and a large country breakfast the likes of which most of them only believe existed in movies (or Wally's house) they were on their way back to the Cave from which they would zetta to their respective homes.

"No." Dick shook his head. "When Supey woke-up he was like a child. He had to be potty-trained, taught to speak and feed himself… Uncle Supes though it would be better not to complicate the situation further by telling him he's not his real son but a clone."

"I imagine it would be difficult to explain to someone at that mental level as well." Kaldur added.

Dick nodded. "Now he's matured enough that Bats thinks he's ready, but Supes is still holding back."

"What will he do if it comes up?" M'gann asked from the captain's chair. Out of all of them she had spoken the least since arriving at the Kent family farm the previous afternoon. "If he's on a mission, with us or working with Superman, and whoever they're fighting knew about Cadmus and Project Kr? Having him find out like that could be devastating."

Again, Dick nodded. "That's why Bats wants Uncle Supes to tell him. But I think Clark is hoping Supey'll figure it out on his own eventually. I mean, it only took him a year to go from the mentality of a toddler to almost back up to our level. How long do you think it'll be before he starts asking questions about his non-existent mother, or why he doesn't have a belly button, or why he lives in Kansas with his grandparents and not Metropolis with his father, or why he's still being home-schooled, or-"

"Dude, I think we get it." Wally cut him off.

…

Kent Family Farm

July 18 – 10:16 pm

Kon didn't really play the video games Dick had given him. He usually only logged onto his online account when one of them called him and asked if he was free to play. This evening, it was just him and Wally, or rather Boyof2morrow and West1337runner, playing a little co-op. Kon was not very good at the games. Wally mostly just asked him to run to the next checkpoint or spawnpoint and wait. When Dick was also with them, he worked out a strategy that used Kon's inexperience and lack of skill to their advantage, but Dick had patrol tonight.

Using the 'find spawnpoint and wait' technique, the pair managed to complete three missions before Wally's mother told him it was time to turn the game off and get to bed.

Kon heard him groan into the voice-chat. "You're so lucky you don't have a mother to nag you like this." There was a brief pause. "Hey, Kon, whatever happened to your mother? We all know your dad's a single parent, but why?"

"Well… I, uh, I don't know." And he suddenly felt a stab of guilt. He knew he had lost all his memories during his trauma (Pa still hadn't given him details on what happened), but he hadn't realized that in doing so, he had also forgotten his mother. He must have had a mother at some point, after all, Pa certainly didn't give birth to him! "I guess I'll have to ask Pa."

…

Smallville Query - decommissioned

July 19 – 12:32 pm

"Your mother?" Clark blinked in horrified astonishment at the question. "Well, ya see… uh. I kinda prefer not to talk about this, Kon."

They sat on a ledge carved out of the old (and blissfully abandoned) Smallville Query. The day had, thus far, been spent in training. Not how to use his powers, Clark had been sure to make sure the boy learned to control his strength at the same time that he was relearning to walk. Keeping a leash on his strength and knowing how and when to use his abilities was second nature to the boy by now. No, today's training was hero-training.

Bruce had been kind enough (meddlesome enough, more like it) to provide Clark with a syllabus and several sets of drills to go through with the boy before taking him out into the field as a sidekick or trying to shirk him off onto the Team again. The entire morning had been spent doing the Dark Knight's drills, now it was break-time.

…And of all things the boy could have possibly though of to talk about on the break it had to be that! Why couldn't it have been something easy, like girls? Heck! Clark would've even been better with something shocking like boys! But no. It had to be a question about his 'mother', an abstract idea that didn't actually exist. How was he supposed to explain that?

"Oh." The boy's eyes fell. "Does it make you sad to talk about? Grammy says that it's hard to talk about sad things and that's why you won't talk about my trauma either."

"It is hard to talk about." Clark agreed, readily jumping on the excuse the boy had unwittingly provided for him without beginning an outright lie.

…

Metropolis

July 21 – 9:43 am

Superman's arms closed around the screaming woman miles before she could hit the street below. Her wails instantly subsided. "Thank you, Superman."

"Good morning, Lois." Clark offered a friendly smile in return. "Isn't it a bit early to be jumping off your balcony?"

The intrepid Lois Lane gave an uncommonly awkward shrug in his arms as she said, "Oh, well, ya know…" Then she quickly averted her eyes. Looked back up at him. Looked away again. Finally, when he was about to set her on her feet and fly away she asked, with more forced casualness than Clark would have thought possible, "So, how's the family?"

The Superman paused. Looked at her for a long moment. She was fishing. He had known Lois long enough to know when her casual questions were just that, casual questions, and when they were strategically planned to make the one answering to give away more than they intended. The problem was, he really didn't know what she was fishing for with that question. Well, that wasn't true. He had an idea. He just didn't know what she was looking for specifically, or how he should phrase his answer to give away as little as possible.

Finally, he said, "They're fine."

Why did that answer seem to disappoint her so much? He decided to ask her about it as Clark when they got into work later.

As he was flying away, the Man of Steel distinctly hears the intrepid reporter mutter, "Jerk-ass."

…

Daily Planet

July 21 – 10:30 am

"I hate him!"

"No you don't."

Lois had been riled and snarly all morning (well, not all morning, just since he arrived at her place as Clark Kent to carpool to work).

"Yes, I do. I do now!" She snapped as she put more sugar in her coffee than she normally did. "I mean, what kind of man does that? Twelve years he's been in Metropolis. Twelve years we've been flirting and chatting… all those exclusives, those private interviews on the roof, the times he would take me flying just for flying's sake… I thought I meant something to him, ya know. Then I find out he's married! That rat bastard!"

"You don't know he's married, Lois." Clark insisted, perhaps a bit more passionately than timid, mild-mannered Clark Kent should have.

"Oh, Clark… Sweet, naïve, little Smallville…" She sighed. Took a sip of her way-to-sugary coffee, decided she hated it and pored the stuff in the trash. "He said 'they' when I asked him about his family. Not, 'Kon's fine' or 'my son's doing better, thank you for asking', no. It was 'they'. So he does have a wife stashed away somewhere. Jerk-ass!"

"Lois, I think you're reading way to much into what he said." Clark insisted. "The 'they' could have just been referring to the kid and Krypto. He has got a Superdog, remember. Or maybe someone else who's helping take care of the kid while he recovers. It doesn't have to be a wife. Don't give up on Superman so easily!"

Lois smiled at him. "Ya know, Smallville, you always see the best in everyone. You're such a nice guy. I wonder why I never really noticed before…" She tossed her empty cup in the trash. "The Planet's coffee sucks. Let's go to Starbucks and I'll buy you a cup of real coffee."

Clark blinked. What just happened? Did Lois Lane just ask him, Clark Kent, out on a date? Oh, hell yeah! Wait, no… If he was just her rebound after Superman... Now that was just all kinds of a tangled mess. She was on the rebound from her crush on him and was getting over it with him. Oh, the pitfalls of a secret identity!

But, what if it went really well? What if Lois decided that she really did like Clark? Yippy! But then, what would happen when she found out that Clark and Superman were the same person? Fiddlesticks! He had to reconcile her with Superman. Or else his life would just become a whole new kind of complicated and he did not want it.

"Alright." He handed her her purse. "But I still think you're being a little hard on the Big Guy. I mean, just because he has a son doesn't mean he has a wife."

"Well, then, where else could the kid have come from?"

…

Small River, Small County

August 3 – 1:16 pm

"Why do I have to be the one to ask him?" Raquel crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

"Because, out of all of us, you're the only one who never met him before the whole mind-control stuff went down." Robin explained. "We all knew him from before. So, he'd think it's strange if one of us asks a question we –theoretically- should already know the answer to."

She did not look impressed.

But the matter was dropped abruptly when the super-teen in question suddenly resurfaced from where he had jumped into the river and it was no longer safe to discuss with his hearing no longer hampered by the water.

Kon beamed up at them. It was the start of August and they had all become keenly aware that the summer would soon be drawing to a close. So, they had decided, what better way to spend what remained of their summer than swimming, sunning and just generally having a good time (and in the case of the Team, saving the world every now and again).

This week found them once again in Smallville hanging out with Kon. He had taken them to a moderately secluded branch of the Small River to swim in. It was a wide span of water, deeper on the west side than it was on the east. The eastern bank sported a narrow gravel beach that only just allowed enough space for them to lay out their towels. An old bridge sat suspended over the river, it had long since been declared unsafe for cars, but it was perfectly fine for people and Kon had taken to jumping off of it into the water.

"You guys coming?" He called.

Zatanna leaned over the edge. "I'd just like to comment that its hilarious you asked us to come and jump off a bridge with you."

"But all the kids in town do it." Kon replied, ever so slightly indignantly.

The Team exchanged amused smirks. Apparently, in Kon's mind, if everyone was jumping off a bridge, it did mean he had to too.

"Oh, whatever. I jump off skyscrapers all the time." Dick leapt off. "Look out below!"

SPLASH!

Everyone did give jumping a try at least once. Dick and Kon started up a jumping contest at one point with Kaldur as judge –Dick won. Artemis and Zatanna migrated to the gravel beach to sunbath, claiming that they were both 'as pale as WoW addicts', M'gann also moved to the bank, but she stayed in the shade of an over-hanging tree where it was cooler.

It had not gone unnoticed that she was trying to have as little actual interaction with Kon as possible. At his birthday party back in July she had been quiet and reclusive, now she was quiet and evasive. Artemis drew her attention with the wave of her hand, then tapped the side of her head –silently asking for a mental up-link.

/'What's wrong?'/ Asked the fem fatal archer.

Under the shade of her tree, M'gann drew her knees up to her chest. /'Its hard sometimes. Sometimes he feels so similar. Like back when he showed up on that mission with Freeze, or when he argues with Uncle Supes… he almost feels like the old Conner –like my Conner. But… but then there're times like right now. Just hanging out and playing with the rest of us and he's so dramatically different!'/

She took a long lingering gaze at him lifting Dick up onto his shoulders for a game of Chicken-Fight. Then she looked away again, her eyes falling on her green human-shaped toes. /'He's a completely different person, but every now and again, I feel a shadow, like a whisper, of who he used to be and I know he can never be like that again because the knowledge and experiences that made him that way are gone and… It's hard.'/

She began to cry. M'gann had not cried over it in a year, but today, under the shade, by the banks of the Small River, she buried her face in her knees and sobbed. /'He's not my Conner anymore. He's Kon-El.'/

Artemis and Zatanna both abandoned their sunbathing and crossed the distance between them to wrap their arms around the martian girl. The action did not go unnoticed by the others in the water and soon none other then Kon-El was on his way over, looking concerned.

"Miss M'gann, are you okay? Did a snake bite you?"

"No." M'gann sobbed.

"Get lost, Kon." Artemis looked up at him. "This is girl-talk."

"Oh." He blushed politely. 'Girl-talk'. He'd heard of that. It was the fabled secret and sacred conference of women, which men were forbidden to take part in or even learn the details of. He backed up cautiously and returned to the water with the other boys and Raquel.

"Is she okay?" The afore mentioned Rocket asked.

Kon's blush deepened. "Apparently, it girl-talk." Then he looked confused. "But they didn't tell me why she's crying."

Robin, Wally and Kaldur all exchanged a look.

Finally, the Boy Wonder said, "She lost her boyfriend last year when Apokolips invaded. She's still upset about it and sometimes just needs to cry."

"Oh."

There was a beat of silence.

The cool waters of the Small River flowed around them.

Finally, Raquel said, "Hey, so, Kon, I was wondering… why don't you have a belly-button?"

The Superboy looked down, running a hand over the smooth, well-toned and completely unblemished plane of his abdomen as if just noticing it for the first time. "Ya know, Miss Raquel, I never thought about it."

Robin gave her a prompting look, so the Rocket continued, "Does Superman have a belly-button? Maybe it's a kryptonian thing?"

"No… Pa's got one…" He said slowly –thinking. "Ah! I got it! Pa's got one because he was born on Krypton under the red sun, so he healed with a belly-button because he didn't have super-powers then. But I was born here under the yellow sun, so I healed without a belly-button."

Kon nodded, proud of himself for being able to figure it out without having to ask his Pa.

…

Bio-ship, somewhere between Kansas and Mount Justice

August 3 – 8:30

"I think making Raquel ask about his belly-button was completely pointless." Artemis commented on the way home.

"No, it was good." Dick insisted. "Yeah, he came up with a rational explanation to fit into what Uncle Supes already has him believing, but that just shows that he's thinking. That's way better than when Wally asked him about his 'mother'. Kon didn't even try to explain it; he just went strait to Supes. Now he's thinking. Eventually, he'll put one and one together and come up with a facsimile of two."

…

Stately Wayne Manor

August 14 – 9:45

Dick balanced on his terrace's guard-rail as if it were a balance-beam. He lifted one leg behind him almost as high as his head in an almost perfect arabesque. "See, Supey, its easy!"

"Uh-huh." She Superboy also stood on the terrace, but he wasn't paying attention to his friend's display. Instead he was staring intently at the index cards Clark had given him to help him remember the Team. Specifically, he was studying the Robin's card. "Dick, my Pa and Mr. Wayne are best friends, right?"

"Yeah…" Dick lowered his leg and sunk into a crouch, still balanced on the rail.

Kon flipped to the Kid Flash's card. "You and Wally worked together and were friends before July two years ago."

"Yeah…"

Back to Robin's card. "So… how come you and I didn't meet until my birthday two years ago when my Pa is best friends with your foster dad? I mean, I know my Pa's kinda overprotective, but wouldn't he have let us hang out a little bit?"

Dick hopped down off the railing. This was the break he'd been waiting for. Kon was starting to seriously examine the story of his life he'd been given and he was finding holes in it. "Well, Supey," he began. "That's hard to say, exactly. Why do you think that is?"

…

Kent Family Farm

August 15 – 10:30 pm

Kon sat on the living room floor, one of Grammy's family photo albums in his lap, over a dozen other such book spread out around him. He flipped through the pages, seeing birthdays, graduations, barbeques, dates with women he'd never seen before, football games, science fairs… but all of it was his father. Not him.

He combed through every single album he could find, but Kon couldn't find a single picture of himself dated before April of last year. A few times he had though high school photos of Pa were him, but they were to old, to faded, and when he took them out of the plastic protected pages he found the words 'Clark varsity game '96' or 'Clark science fair '94' inscribed on the back. They were all of Pa, not him.

He saw Grammy holding a toddler that had his blue eyes and dark hair. But Grammy looked far to young for the child in the photo to be him. He saw Pop-pop sitting in a tractor with a young boy on his lap. The boy had his high cheek-bones and was developing a strong cleft in his chin. But Pop-pop was to young, the tractor they were in to outdate for the boy to be him. Kon had to conclude that there were no pictures of him before he was sixteen.

But, why?

It was like he hadn't existed.

…Then he suddenly just popped into existence.

That didn't make any sense. People didn't just materialize out of nowhere.

…

Metropolis

August 20 – 9:00 am

Pa had dubbed Kon's training sufficient and was taking him out on a patrol of Metropolis. It struck the young Superboy then, that this was the first time was visiting the city since recovering from his trauma. It then occurred to him to wonder why his father lived in Delaware when he was living in Kansas.

Kon leapt from roof-top to roof-top while Pa flew low, keeping pace with his aerially-challenged son.

"Something wrong, Kon?" Pa asked. "You've been awfully quiet all day. I would have though you'd be excited to finally be outta training and working the streets."

"I am!" The Superboy quickly assured him. He landed on the flat tarred back-topped roof of a tenement building on the edge of Suicide Slums. A light breeze ruffled the collar of his jacket –an accessory to his costume that Pa did not fully approve of, feeling that it looked unprofessional. "Its just… I've been wondering… lately… Pa, how come you don't live at home? Or… why don't I live with you? How come there are no pictures of me from when I was little? How come you never talk about my mother? Do I even have a mother? Is that why I don't have a belly-button?"

"Wow." Clark landed next to him. "That's a lot of questions all at once. You must have been thinking about this for a while."

Kon studied his black-booted feet. "It just sorta feels like I popped out of thin air. Like I didn't exist before two years ago…"

"Oh, boy…" Pa heaved a sober sigh. He looked around them, down into the streets and allies of Suicide Slum and up at the morning sun high in the sky. "This is not the place to have this conversation. Let's finish the morning patrol and then, I promise, I'll tell you where you come from."

"Okay."

…

Metropolis

August 20 – 11:00 am

It didn't usually take Clark two hours to complete his usual circuit of the city. But he also didn't really want to have this conversation with Kon and so he found ways and reasons to stall. Taking side-trips over peaceful residential neighborhoods and sub-urbs where the most dangerous things people did was allow their kids to play roller-hokey in the streets and the biggest crime was stealing their neighbor's newspaper. Kon didn't know he was being stalled, he'd never been to Metropolis before and certainly had never gone patrolling with the Superman.

But, finally, Clark had to concede that he was running out of neighborhoods and excuses.

They ended their patrol where Clark always ended it: on the roof of the Daily Planet building. They sat on the sloping edges of the words circling the globe. It was now late morning and the sun was high in the sky. Clark really didn't want to have this conversation, but he also didn't want Kon to feel like he needed to ask a second time. He wanted the Superboy to continue to trust him and not think the Superman was keeping things from him.

After a prolonged pause, Clark began, "I had Watchtower duty the day you came into the world. That was also the day that Batman, the Flash, Green Arrow and Aquaman were going to have their side-kicks inducted into the League."

"That was only two years ago." The boy looked at him.

"I know." Clark answered soberly.

"On Watchtower, I received an alert that a fire had broken out in a gentics lab in DC called 'the Cadmus Project'. I called Batman at the Hall and gave him the alert since he was right there in DC already. At the same time, a villain named Wotan was attempting to block-out the sun with some magic something-or-other, and that took priority over the fire so the League left to deal with Wotan. You're friends had been in the room when I gave Bats the heads-up about Cadmus and so they went there instead. That's… that's when they found you."

"I was found! In a lab!"

Clark could see the wheels in the boy's head turning. He wasn't quite there yet, but he could see the boy starting to reach a conclusion.

"Tell me…" He began. "Tell me I was taken from you and my mother at birth and that this lab was running experiments on me because I'm an alien." There was a beat of silence. "No… don't say that. That sounds sad…" He looked desolate. "I'm not really your son, am I?"

"You are my son!" Clark insisted. "You just didn't come into being through conventional means."

Some of the desolation in his face melted away and was replaced with a forlorn smile. "Thanks, Pa. But… tell me what I am for real."

Clark wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him closer. "You're a clone. Of me."

Another beat of silence passed between them.

"Well." Kon muttered. "That sure explains why we look so much alike. Was I… did the lab create to be… one of the bad guys?"

Clark opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, looked away when he said, "Kind of…"

"Kind of?" The boy echoed.

"That doesn't matter, Kon. It was two years ago and we wiped all your programming clean. Don't worry about what you were made to be and just think about what you want to be. That's all that matters now."

"I wanna be a hero. Like you."

"I would be honored if you followed in my cape-swooshes." They shared a lingering hug.

Then Kon pulled away. "One other thing has been bothering me." He said. "Miss M'gann always seems upset whenever she's around me. A couple weeks ago Dick told me that she lost her boyfriend around the same time that I had my trauma. Was he… Did I… kill him? I mean, if I was a bad guy…?"

Now it was Clark's turn to smile desolately. "No, Kon, you didn't kill him." He assured the boy. "…I did."

"What! Pa!" The Superboy was mortified.

"In my defense, I didn't know that we'd loose him. I though he'd be down for a few hours and then bounce back with a headache and spotty memory. I was wrong."

There was a long silence between them after that. The sun climbed higher in the sky, reaching its zenith and bathing them both in the energizing noon glow. Almost in unison they both tipped their faces up to appreciate its invigorating heat.

Finally, Kon said, "That's something I never imagined of you, Pa. I… I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"One day you'll learn the whole story." Clark assured him. "But I'm not the person to tell it to you."

"I… see…" There was another beat of silence. This had been probably the single heaviest conversation they'd ever had in his short life and Kon really was not sure how he was supposed to feel. Finally, for a lack of anything else to say or do, he asked, "Are you gonna fly me back to Smallville now?"

"Not yet." He smiled hesitantly. "There's still someone I want you to meet while you're in town. Wait here."

He hopped down off the Daily Planet globe and darted into the building.

…

Daily Planet

August 20 – 1:16 pm

"…so you see, Lois, I couldn't tell you the truth about Superboy until after he learned it on his own." The Superman explained. "I couldn't risk him reading something about it in the paper before he was ready and freaking out."

The intrepid reporter, Lois Lane scrutinized the Man of Steel with a piercing, unforgiving gaze the likes of which he had only ever seen on General Lane and Clark quickly decided that on Lois it was much more terrifying by far. "So…" She said slowly. "He's not really your son."

"He is my son!" The Superman insisted. "He just did come into the world in a conventional way."

"And you're not married."

"Never have been."

Her piercing gaze was turned to the Superboy. She took in his appearance from the leather jacket over his red and blue tights to the useless looking crossed belts around his waits to the black boots. "And what about you, Super… boy? What do you have to say about all of this?"

He was startled by her sudden shift and intimidated by her scrutinizing glare. Finally, he stammered, "I think Pa explained it pretty well, Miss Lois. I don't really have much to add."

"Miss Lois?" She echoed. "Oh that is so cute! Where'd he have you stashed this past year? Middle Tennessee?"

"No, ma'am." He shook his head. "I'm from Ka-"

Superman placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a quantum of a head-shake to warn the boy against giving away their identities.

…

Mount Justice

September 3 – 5:30 pm

Wally did not stumble and fall this time as he came jogging out of the zetta tube. But then again, neither was he weighted down by beach umbrellas, towels, boat-bags or other such paraphernalia. He had learned that after his school semester started he just wasn't going to be able to make it to the fun beach events the rest of the Team had. Damn time-zones! Curse you!

When he arrived it was to find everyone in uniform and gathered together in a huddle. The young speedster had a sudden bout of déjà vu. "Hey guys." He said. "What's going on?"

"We got a new Team member!" Artemis informed him.

The group parted.

"Supey!" Wally cried. "You're joining! Superman's letting you join!"

"Yep." He beamed proudly. "Today's the day!"

…

END


End file.
